Now that'd be a good fuck. A cunt paralyzed from the waist down.

Of course, the big thing was her big belly was in the way.

How unfortunate and perfect and what would happen to it inside?

I was getting fascinated with the mechanics of crushing her fetus. Were there any options or optimum approaches? I was struggling with myself, with my expectations and preferences.

It was all new to me. Not to say I couldn't nap another preggars woman if I screwed up. That would be the same as I did when I accidently murdered one of my previous victims, like killed her too soon. But so what? Big fucking deal. There were lots more to be found out and then too I knew what wouldn't work also. What was beyond tolerance. Like pulling a cervix out with pliers. That was another non non.

Page 20.

But she was special and I really wanted to get it right to be able to congratulate myself afterwards. My main dilemma was whether or not to cut her ankles lose and bind her really tightly across her thighs just under her twat. With her legs spread as they already were, she could expel the baby when it was forced out of her. If I bound her hips tightly across her pussy, how would the fucking baby get out? It'd have to bust out through her belly flesh like a cesarian explosion or risk getting cut in half, maybe even it's molded head cut off. With her legs spread it could shoot out her cunt like it was supposed to for normal child birth. It could come firing out like a messy cannon cunt ball.

I still didn't know, so I administered another half dozen ratchet clicks and the cable was sunk two inched into her hard belly flesh but it had a long way to go.

I thought I should ask her, consult her about my choices, after all it was her gut I was fucking with.

She was moaning a lot and barely coherent and, of course, weeping rivers so I had to bitch slap her face to focus her, but still she wanted to wail and plead and couldn't hear my voice for her own racket.

Since it was going to die anyway, there was no reason not to belly bash her.

I felt around.

I felt aroused.

It was like killing a meat loaf.

It was like slugging a baloney.

And I liked it.

I liked the feel of her flesh inside of her flesh.

I liked it so much I thumped her again with my knuckles.

And put my ear to her to see if its heart was still there.

Strong little fucker, really wanted to get on with living.

It was still thumpity thumping away but I thought faster like it was scared, and not just of the dark.

I laced her face with my backhand.

'You shut up. Stop mewling. You quiet up or I'll stomp on it. I'll use your gut for a punching bag and then I'll stomp on it and if that doesn't work, I'll stab it, slice it open, for good measure.'

All the talk was evil and it overwhelmed her.

Page 21.

She sniveled to a stop, so she could do it if she wanted to.

'So here's my problem. You listening? The cable's going to get shorter and shorter, tighter and tighter across your gut until something has to give and I can assure you it won't be the device. It'll lift five tons. So it has to be your fucking kid in there. It's going to want to come out. It's going to have to come out. It's going to be forced out. You following me?'

Her eyes had glazed over and she prayed furiously to God and barely took in the first half of my problem.

I continued undeterred and sort of analytical.

'So, I'm not sure how I wants to do it. If I bind your legs tightly together, right at the top across your hips, the kid can't get out your cunt. Your legs will be too squished together and your leg bones won't give enough for it to get out so I figure it'll have to explode out through your belly, like boom, blasto, blood and guts and new born baby shit everywhere.'

So how does a normal, rational, middle-class, pure white- bread woman handle those images? She doesn't. Her mouth hung open like a simpleton as she tried to comprehend my simple words.

They weren't big ones. Just horrid ones, the pictures they painted.

I continued excited and was really gettin' into it, really getting into the swing, so to say.

'But with your ankles spread, the kid can come firing out like a normal birth. Right down and out the old birth canal. Row boat and all. Row, row your boat, right along the fuck canal. That sound better to you?'

She must have had an inexhaustible supply of no's because that's pretty well all she could reply.

'Can't chose? Well neither can I. Maybe I should flip a coin. Why don't I toss a quarter? That should be fair.'

I was all set to and then she amazed me.

She must have been understanding more of the implications than seemed evident and surely more than I thought. I thought her brain was already fried.

Page 22.

'Please. Please listen. Listen. If it's vaginal, if it comes out my vagina, like the normal thing, I'll probably survive and you can do sex with me still. The other way I think I'll die and I don't want to be dead.'

'Shit. Good score. Good point. If the thing twisted out through your belly, you're right, you'll probably end up dead and I won't be able to torment you anymore. If it dumps out your cunt like a good shit, you'd probably survive that. Wouldn't you?'

'It depends on how much I hemorrhaged and how willing you were to help me, to stem the flow.'

'I'd help. You have my word. I'd stuff a towel inside you.'

'You'd have to help me better than that.'

'Yeah, sure. So then I could have a great time teasing you about losing the kid. Yeah, that sounds great for me. Not so great for you overall, but that cuts it then. Legs apart then.' I gloated with pride at my decision making abilities.

As impossible as it seemed she seemed relieved, even grateful.

I ratcheted her tighter with renewed vigor and she was extremely hard pinned to the wooden block, like she was nailed to the floor with a twelve inch spiral spike. It soon became obvious she could not struggle free nor barely budge so I cut the cords binding her ankles and her legs pulled up and spread at the same time as she tried to buck her way off the block under her backside, but to no avail and it hurt like blue bloody murder.

With her legs waving around like that she was too tempting to resist. She still had a whole cunt.

I crawled up between her legs and slithered onto her crotch and it was a tricky position to bang her in but I managed to pole her and spunked loaded her all in five minutes. Her nipples had hardened again so I set half a dozen long hat pins through them sideways. She hollered but she was already in so much pain it didn't sound like more. I pried her cunt open to see if the kid was coming out yet but that was an anatomical impossibility, at least at that juncture.

Page 23.

I got a couple of hat pins into her engorged, stretched clit and she did holler louder for that. It was like puncturing a ripe worm.

Then I figured, why not? She was so fixed, like I said, she was nailed to the floor in place, I cut her wrists free and she shocked me again. Without even hesitating, she yanked all six of the hat pins out of her nipples. It was harder for her to de-pin her clit but she managed that too and then she tried, with all her fortitude, to dislodge the wood block under her spine and it wouldn't budge a fraction.

As I strolled by to attend the ratchet she flung her arm out and locked onto my ankle. She pulled and pinched and tried to skin my shin as I knelt down. It took no effort at all to use my other foot to stamp on her engorged tit. The milk shot out and near drenched my face. Fuck it tasted even better like that. She had to break her grip on my leg, trying to deflect my rain of fist blows to her bouncing chest.

Two fucking punching bags, that's what they were become.

I grabbed her pierced nipple and pulled it to her ear and line smashed her in the stretched underside of her tit. Lots of it broke inside and blood mixed with her milk. It wasn't red, but soft pink.

I prepared to hit her harder but she looked to be swooning and about to pass out and I didn't relish that.

I slapped her face instead, kissed her open mouth and told her, 'So, OK. OK. Now it's time to get real. It's time to abort.'

'Please. Please I pray you. Have mercy. Don't kill my baby. I don't want to see my baby dead.'

'Look there is another choice.'

'What? No? Yes, What? What is it?'

'I could kill you instead. If you really want me not to kill the kid by crushing it out of you, I could just waste you instead.'

'But no. No, I told you I don't want to die and besides the baby wouldn't live anyway. You have to know that. What kind of a deal is that?'

'Oh yeah, I forgot about that. But if you don't want to go through the trauma, this is your chance out.'

'Can I think about it?'

'Sure you can while I keep on working it. It's called a ratchet you know, they use them for stretching fences on the farms.'

Page 24.

I settled in beside the handle and got comfortable, you might see, and prepared to go the distance.

I'd keep increasing the pressure, keep on constricting her belly even if it snapped her spine until the kid shot out and if I cut her, cut it in half, that was the collateral damage.

The cable was buried five inches into her gut which was getting to be deep and finally, as in at last, the blood started to flow out her pussy. Just a trickle. There was no way her cervix was dilating so it had to be rupturing, tearing open from the upside and that was a good sign. It meant the baby could get out.

I had to give up on trying to keep her conscious. I was severely compressing her spinal discs and the pain shot right up to the back of her skull and down to her ass. I used half a bucket of the smelling salts and to no avail. She was far too traumatized and uncomfortable and mentally smashed to stay awake for her kid's death which I could sense was extremely near.

Then it all went sort of blooey hooey.

She began to beg me to kill her, the pain was so insufferable but I led her to believe I'd changed my mind. I'd never offered it as a true option so there was no way out of her fix.

But she was wearing me down with her strength and I needed a break and was set to leave the room for a snack and a piss when she came back to on her own wailing in tongues. It was like language, but not. I couldn't understand any of it other than it meant she hurt and was in agony. Maybe it was the Holy Spirit come to rescue her kid and try to scare me off.

But then.

Then.

Was she starting to miscarry?

I wasn't sure, but if so I wanted to help her.