The Magyar
By Torrent
She regained consciousness slowly, in stages. First there were sounds:
the clank of chains, the scrape of something heavy being dragged across a
concrete floor, the whir of an electric motor, voices.
No, actually just one voice - heavily accented, fruity and breathless.
Like Vincent Price doing an impression of Zsa Zsa Gabor, MA thought.
The speaker occasionally gave an order to some subordinate who remained
silent, but mostly he chattered about home decor.
"I mean, I told him in no uncertain terms," said the voice. "I said,
'Hector, you have got to ditch the gold lame . It clashes with absolutely
everything.' - No, Corgi, we're not going to use the clamps. I don't want to
damage her more than necessary. Now, where was I? Oh, yes, so I simply insisted
. . . ."
Ms. Americana became aware that she was tied to a sturdy,
straight-backed chair, with her wrists bound behind her. She made an enormous
effort and finally opened her eyes. What greeted her, at first, was a blurry
pattern of light and dark. The pattern changed as someone, or something, moved
in front of her, but she couldn't make out what it was.
She blinked several times, hoping to clear her vision.
"Look," someone whispered.
Then the first voice said, "Well, how nice, Miss American Pie has at
last joined us in mind, as well as body. The fluttering eyelids, the color
restored to those lovely cheeks. How are you feeling, my dear?"
"Where . . . ?" But MA couldn't finish the question. Her small reserve
of strength had quickly been exhausted, and she again closed her eyes.
"Where are you? Is that what you're wondering," said the voice. When MA
didn't respond, the voice became sharper. "Corgi, can you get her attention,
please?"
MA felt a stab of pain as someone twisted her left nipple. She opened
her eyes just in time to see a blur of motion, as that someone slapped her hard
on the side of the head.
"I know it's difficult," said the voice, which now came from farther
away, "but you really must try to pay attention and stay awake. We have an
awful lot of work to do."
Finally, MA got a glimpse of the speaker who went with the voice. It
was a tall, slender man in a black velvet leisure suit. He was arranging
cushions on a chaise lounge on the far side of the room. His back had been
toward her, but now he turned, and her blood froze. It was the Magyar.
"Look, Corgi. The shock of recognition - isn't it lovely? I believe she
is quite frightened. Are you frightened, my dear?"
When MA didn't answer, the Magyar made the slightest nod of his head,
and Corgi's fist slammed into her jaw.
"Not too hard, Corgi dearest. We want her to be able to cooperate."
It took MA half a minute to regain consciousness. When she raised her
head, she was looking into the bland, stupid face of a thickset man in a grey
T-shirt. So this was Corgi, she thought.
"She's awake again, sir," he said. Then he stepped aside, and the
Magyar was looking down at her.
"Are we ready to chat?" he asked brightly.
MA nodded.
The Magyar knelt before her, put his hand under her chin and lifted
her head.
"My, you're every bit as beautiful as advertised," he said.
"And you're every bit the Hungarian Queen I was told you were," she
said hoarsely. She waited for the blow to fall, but the Magyar's expression
didn't change. In fact, he smiled.
MA pressed on. "I know you're new to this country, asshole, but
that's no excuse for dressing like it's still 1977. And your teeth! Don't they
have orthodontists in Budapest?"
"Ah, yes. They told me you were a tough cookie."
"Tough cookie?" said MA. "Who writes your dialogue? That went out in the
'40s."
The Magyar rose and turned to Corgi. "See. Exactly the response one
would expect from a tough cookie. Here she is, barely begun to recover from a
powerful neurotoxin that will leave her weak for days, and with her hands tied
behind her. But does she grovel and plead for mercy? No, she insults my teeth,
my clothes, my idiomatic English. And her expression of bored insolence! I just
love that in a woman. It means she's too stupid to know she's in danger."
Actually, MA was well aware of how much danger she was in. But
wisecracking seemed a better course than begging. Everything she had learned
about the Magyar from Interpol suggested that he killed mostly out of boredom.
She didn't intend to let him get bored.
The Magyar walked over to the chaise lounge and picked up what looked
like a cell phone. "Spaniel, get the bitches and bring them down here. I'm going
to get some lunch and I want all of you to work on her a while. Nothing too
heavy. And be sure to tape it. I want a record of the proceedings to send to her
handlers."
# # #
The workout was brief but brutal. MA was untied, yanked upright and
dragged across the room, past a variety of torture implements and devices, to a
full-length mirror. She looked at herself and had to fight back tears. She was
naked except for her red boots. Her face was puffy from repeated blows. Her
power belt was gone. Her big, beautiful breasts were exposed - and red from what
appeared to be bite marks. Her vagina hurt, and she assumed she had been raped
more than once.
Spaniel, a slim young man with a mop of auburn hair, stood next to the
mirror, videotaping her as she looked at her reflection. Corgi held one of her
arms. A big, tough-looking woman in a black leather jerkin and black jeans held
her other. In the mirror, MA could see two other women, also dressed in black,
behind her.
"Enough of this narcissistic bullshit," said one of them. "Let's do it."
Corgi spun her around, and the woman hit her hard in the stomach. MA
bent over, retching.
"Tough cookie tosses cookies," said Corgi, grinning.
A knee slammed into MA's face. It straightened her up for half a second,
then her knees buckled. Corgi caught her from behind, his big hands reaching
around and squeezing her tits.
The Magyar's three "bitches" were relentless. Several times, Corgi had
to tell them to back off.
"Why," asked Wolfhound, the biggest of the bunch. "She's supposed to be
some kind of fuckin' super heroine. We've been beating the shit out of her, and
she still looks fresh as a daisy. I say, anything goes."
With that she kicked MA in the crotch so hard that her boot disappeared
up to the instep.
"Yeah," said Corgi, "but it ain't what you say that goes. The boss says
don't hurt her too bad."
"Wait," said Spaniel. "Let me get a close-up of this." He moved the
camera to within inches of MA's crotch as Wolfhound shook and twisted her boot,
pulled it part-way out, then shoved it in again.
"She's drooling," Bulldog said with a laugh. Spaniel pointed the camera
at MA's face, and sure enough a string of spittle hung from her parted lips.
"I think she likes you, Wolfie," said Corgi.
"I bet she'll like this even better," said Mastiff. She had strapped on
a foot-long studded copper dildo.
"Great," said Wolfhound. "I've already got her pussy lathered up."
"Pussy, hell," said Mastiff. "Get her face down and put that cushion
under her. I'm going to butt-fuck her until her ass is as wide as Mammoth Cave."
"I don't think that's a good idea," objected Corgi. But he didn't
interfere as the others pulled MA's legs apart and Mastiff plunged the giant
dildo into her anus. MA, who had been only semi-conscious, awoke with a scream.
Mastiff was pumping vigorously. MA struggled to free herself and nearly
succeeded, despite the lopsided odds and the lingering effects of the drug. But
at last she went limp, and Mastiff continued to ream her until Corgi pulled her
away.
# # #
"Not hungry?" said the Magyar. "You really should eat. You need to build
up your strength."
"You want me to be strong? Give me back my belt."
The Magyar laughed. They were sitting at a wicker table on a terrace
overlooking his Hounds County estate. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows
across the lawn that led down to the formal garden.
"No, I want you to be strong enough to cooperate with us, not to . . .
." Here he hesitated and looked over at Spaniel, who stood a few feet away,
videocam still at the ready.
"Kick ass," said Spaniel.
"Right. We don't want you so strong that you can 'kick ass.'"
"So you're a coward, as well as a sadist," said MA.
"A coward? But of course. Only a fool puts himself needlessly in harm's
way. I am very careful about my physical safety. But a sadist - no, I don't
think so."
"No?" said MA with a grim smile. "You could have fooled me. I've seen
pictures of the girls you've worked on. In some cases, they were unrecognizable.
And your goons did a pretty good job on me today."
"Goons? I have no goons. The men and women who 'kicked ass' today are my
associates. Like most American employers these days, I have no employees or
servants. Or goons. We are all associates - are we not, Spaniel?"
"Absolutely, sir," answered Spaniel.
"And as for being a sadist, I believe a sadist is someone who gets
sexual pleasure from hurting others. But my pleasure, I assure you, is purely
aesthetic. You may be sexually appealing to most men, but to me you are merely a
promising subject for experiments in cruelty."
MA decided to change the subject. "How come all your 'associates' have
dogs' names?"
"No, not dog names - names of canine breeds," the Magyar corrected her.
"I don't know why. Perhaps I am sentimental. I love dogs very much. And this is,
after all, Hounds County."
"And you are, after all, such a bitch," MA added.
The Magyar evidently had grown tired of her cockiness. He nodded, and MA
suddenly felt something hard and heavy hit the back of her head. She slumped
forward, and her face landed in the vichyssoise.
"Get her out before she drowns," the Magyar said grumpily. "Then put her
in the kennel. A night with real dogs might do her some good."
"Yes, sir," said Corgi. "But if I might make a suggestion, shouldn't I
first remove the pit bulls? I mean, you said you didn't want any unnecessary
damage."
"Yes, of course. You're quite right. No pit bulls. And no Dobermans. But
I definitely want the Pyrenees and the two male St. Bernards in with her. They
have such deliciously big dicks. And be sure to give our princess a squirt of
Heat before you lock her up."
# # #
Corgi and Mastiff laid MA facedown in the little courtyard at the center
of the kennel. Mastiff slipped a burlap sack filled with dog biscuits under MA's
pelvis, so her pussy would be more accessible. Then Corgi sprayed her behind and
crotch with the aerosol sex stimulant that the Magyar's staff veterinarian had
concocted.
"Okay, boys, come and get it," Mastiff yelled as she opened the cages of
the Pyrenees and the St. Bernards. They came out full of eager playfulness,
ready for a romp on the grounds. But when they got a whiff of Heat, their
demeanor changed instantly.
The big Pyrenees got to her first. He sniffed her pussy, then licked it
with his enormous tongue. The St. Bernards crowded in, but the Pyrenees wasn't
about to let them in on the fun. He snarled and snapped first at one, then at
the other. And even while doing so, he managed to get his prick into MA's
already slick pussy.
It was all over in seconds. The Pyrenees withdrew his dripping cock and
walked away, no longer aroused or even interested.
One St. Bernard mounted MA, and the other stood with his head hanging
inches from hers. When MA moaned and started to squirm, he clamped his huge jaws
around her neck and squeezed. She struggled harder, and he increased the
pressure on her neck. At last, she went limp again.
Spaniel, perched on a wall overlooking the courtyard, got it all on
tape. The highlight came when the first St. Bernard had shot his wad and
withdrawn, and MA suddenly turned over onto her back and tried to sit up. The
second St. Bernard lunged at her, grabbed her by the throat and shook her like
a rag doll until she lost consciousness. Then he neatly spread her legs with
his muzzle and raped her while looking down into her half-closed eyes.
