Fertiliser

Tw; abuse, abduction-talk, rape, blood, unconventional weapons, decapitation snuff.

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The drill rattled loudly in Geoff’s hand, the screws biting back at him as they dug deep into the wood. The radio blared from across the shed, the old speaker crackling as the tune played; a device in dire need of repair.

Humming to himself as he took the measuring pencil from behind his ear and marked the wood, Geoff studied the DIY construction and with prideful glee smiled, it was finished.

A sudden tap-tap-tap against the heavy metal shed door behind him startled him. Standing up he turned around quickly to unclasp the lock, brushing sawdust off his overalls.

He pulled the door back toward himself, pushing his smudged glasses up his face as he did so, on the other side of the door, an outstretched offering of a mahogany dinning tray was presented before him; adorned atop it two empty glasses and a tall perspiring pitcher of lemonade.

“I thought you might be thirsty.” A loving feminine voice spoke eagerly.

Geoff leaned out of the doorway, placing a gentle peck on the ladies cheek as he pulled the tray toward himself, her skin warmed by the afternoon heat.

“Thank you honey you’re sweeter than this here lemonade.” Geoff said sincerely.

The lady stared back at him admiringly, the compliment sending her smile from ear to ear.

“Just let me know if you need a refill. Woodworking is hard work you know!” She said jokingly, a cheeky grin appearing only for a moment.

Geoff stepped back, carefully keeping the door majority closed with his foot, placing the tray on a nearby woodworking bench. Smiling back at the woman as he returned to the doorway;

“Is there anything else I can help you with?” He asked kindly.

The woman smiled still, her adoration never faltering. Her wavy brown hair curled up as it hit her slender shoulders, her hazel eyes catching the afternoon sun.

“We don’t see you a lot during the week and it’s the weekend and well…the kids miss you…we miss you.” She said earnestly.

Leaning out once more Geoff placed another kiss on her, this time on her soft awaiting lips the slight pressure of their love a divine feeling.

“I’ll be inside soon baby. I just have to do the last few screws and then I’ll replant the garden.” Geoff said, in a calming yet assertive tone.

“You don’t have to.” His wife answered, placing an outstretched hand onto his hulking and sweaty forearm.

Geoff smiled longingly. With one more kiss he uttered; “I want to.”

***

Moments later Geoff closed the door, locking it behind him, the music still playing all the while. He looked around the shed; it was a large man-made structure, hand crafted by Geoff.

The walls were thick metal, sound-proof panels ran the length of the walls. His boot smacked against the grey cement floor, the shiny metal drainage hole in the middle glistening as the overhead fluorescent light gave the room an unnatural glow.

Leaning now up against his woodworking table he reached for the pitcher, took the lid off and drank straight from it. Tart lemonade poured down his face, staining his overalls, rogue droplets hitting the floor in an uneven pattern. He stood slightly off balance, studying the wooden contraption in front of him.

To the untrained eye it appeared as nothing more than an avante garde centre piece for a garden bed. But Geoff’s eyes were trained and he knew its true purpose; after all, he built it.

The structure was made of heavy, quality timber. Thick boards attached with long screws and nails, multiple hinges and latches allowed the star shaped icon to be raised or lowered to a horizontal or vertical position.

An attachment points were mounted on each of the star points ends, allowing for ease of attachment. Geoff took another sip of the sour lemonade, his face grimacing at the taste as he walked past the artistic expression of his inner desire.

“Gabby brought me a pitcher of lemonade.” Geoff said, turning down the music on the old radio by only a touch as he squatted down in front of a large and heavy tool chest, the type he kept in his van.

Unclasping the latches he pulled the custom locks away, and forced the lid up.

“I mean, some people are just the sweetest, don’t you think?” Geoff said rhetorically to the frightened battered lady within the box who shielded her eyes instinctively from the blinding white light.

***

Geoff grabbed the terrified lady by the hair, and yanked her from the box, forcing her out. She fell out limply, smacking hard against the concrete as Geoff kicked her across the face with his heavy boot.

The lady groaned in pain, spitting a healthy dose of blood onto the slate grey ground, a tooth coming out with the bloody saliva.

Wasting no time, he yanked her again by the hair, pulling it taught, raising her forcefully up against the wooden machination.

Instinctively and without error he locked her wrists in with the handcuffs pre-attached to the latches. Following suit, he did the same with her legs, forcing them to the farthest star piece, the stretch beyond uncomfortable and endlessly degrading.

With a flat palm he smacked her naked Cunt, her wet and hairy muff cushioning the blow but only slightly. Geoff slapped it again and again before turning to her tits. He wailed on them, smacking them hard, her double D’s flailing from side to side, the skin bright red and ever so tender.

He silently traced her neck, as the radio played nonchalantly in the background, before he whipped a hard masculine hand across her face, his knuckles catching her broken cheek bone.

The woman panted and pleaded, her words slurry from the hits, the blood and missing teeth only adding to the inaudible nature of her cries.

Geoff pushed his fogged up glasses up his nose, his nostrils flaring as the woman tried to reason with him. He smacked her again and again until she found the grace to silence herself.

“Do you have kids? A husband? Friends, family?” Geoff asked politely, grabbing the ladies chin and pulling her gaze to line up with his, his words cold and matter of fact.

No answer came.

“Well I have the unfortunate news of telling you that you’ll never see them again. This room will be your tomb. I’m going to have my way with you and then, I’m going to bury you in my wife’s flower garden.” He said so softly and limply, almost exhausted by the need to vocalise his mind’s plan.

As if not learning her prior lesson the lady screeched and screamed, flailing wildly on the device, her arms and legs moving scarce little, the sound of the rattling cuffs only slightly louder than the still playing radio.

Geoff turned his back on the woman and walked toward the wall above his woodworking table, his tools suspended by metal pegs.

He reached up and grabbed a large garden bag from the roll that was suspended on the wall. The bag was a thick black material, the type you’d put crunchy autumn leaves in.

He whipped the bag out in front of him, the lady paralysed with fear stared at him with horrified blue eyes, her naked body battered and already bruised. Shaking like the very leaves meant for the bag, Geoff spoke;

“I only tell you all of this, because I’m under a little bit of a time limit. So we’ll have to make this quick.” He said throwing the bag over the unnamed girl’s head.

He tightened his grip around it immediately, cutting off her airway instantly. The lady violently jolted and fought back, the restrains keeping her unable to meaningfully relieve the bag.

With one hand Geoff held the back’s ends firm, the other he stared at his watch, watching closely as the second hand ticked away her life.

As the fighting grew softer and slower Geoff studied the watch once more before lifting the bag, the woman gasping a heavy breath of air, her starved frame sucked an empty stomach inward, her ribs nearly poking through.

As she gasped for air, puffing and panting Geoff went back to the wall of tools and pulled down a rusty pair of secateurs. The lady’s eyes caught a flash of the metal tool and she began to violently flail, curling her fingers and toes inward.

Geoff grabbed her clenched fist and angrily twisted it in a terrible direction, almost snapping her wrist. Through sheer pain the woman released her fist and Geoff placed the blades of the secateur around her index finger.

“PLEASE! if you let me go, I’ll never tell anyone.” The woman pleaded through snotty words with a bloody mouth.

Geoff said nothing as the clamp of the garden tool did all the talking. Instantly the blades sliced through, severing the finger from the hand, cutting through skin, tendon and bone with relative ease, the useless appendage falling to the shed floor.

The woman hollered in agony as Geoff went down the line of fingers; snip, snip, snip. With each passing prune the lady screeched a note higher, her voice now beyond shrill, the sound of blood potter-patting onto the concrete floor.

Geoff took a quick pause to hold up the now fingerless hand up toward the woman. Seeing the mutilated body part only made her scream more.

Walking now from her left hand to her right, Geoff turned up the radio as he placed the blade around her pinky finger.

The song “rich girl” by Hall & Oates played, the radio feedback causing the audio quality to sound grating and unclean.

“Ooh I love this song!” Geoff said as he brought the secateur blades down once more, another finger meeting the pile already adorning the floor. Before long the floor was littered with fingers and toes, the rings on the fingers still very much attached. The bleeding only sped up, some specs of blood now stained the timber.

The lady screeched in agony, begging for release, the sweet kiss of death beyond her reach. Geoff silently walked back to the wall of tools and placed the secateurs back as he whistled along with the radio.

Pulling down now a measly miniature handheld spade Geoff asked the woman something;

“Why were you out on the road when I found you?” He spat coldly.

“I was…hitchhiking to see my son.” The lady replied, her voice trembling.

“You don’t have a car?” Geoff asked curiously, raising an eyebrow of suspicion.

“Nnnoo.” The woman muttered as her chest compressed with hyperventilation.

“Well even if you did you wouldn’t be able to drive anymore.” Geoff said gesturing with his eyes to the pile of fingers and toes that he haphazardly kicked together.

The woman looked pale and faint, her gaunt features only worsening with the blood loss. Taking the time to lower the contraption from vertical to horizontal he asked another question to the slowly bleeding out woman;

“How olds your son?” Geoff prodded inquisitively.

The woman said nothing, whether willingly or not was up for debate.

Geoff ran a forceful hand across her piss wet cunt, forcing a finger inside her tightly clenched hole, he forcibly and eagerly rammed the handheld spade head into her vagina without so much as a warning word.

The sharp and angular tool pushed her to her breaking point, the sharp metal sides slicing and digging into her inner Cunt.

Blood poured from her finger nubs, foot stubs and aching pussy. The woman’s screams were replaced by hoarse cries for death, gurgling and rambling; her blood drained brain and shocked system unable to form coherency. The only phrase remotely legible was the repeated cry;

“Kill me.”

***

Smiling Geoff walked back toward the radio and turned it off, silence for a brief moment filled the eerie shed as the woman shook with primal fear, her once clammy skin growing ever colder.

Quickly, Geoff unzipped his dirty, blood stained, sawdust covered overalls. At the very same time he pulled the handheld spade out from her cascading red Cunt and shoved himself deep inside her. Thrusting against the torrent of blood, a hard Geoff forced himself atop her.

The unknown lady tried desperately to disassociate but at every juncture where she could escape mentally a hard thrust and a backhand brought her right back, her repulsion and tear soaked eyes only stiffened his cock more.

Geoff fucked harder and faster, the blood lubing up the entire process, his entire cock and balls were covered in viscus red blood.

Bucking his hips as the pleasure palace of his mind unlocked, sending a viral wave of pleasure across every synapse, Geoff thrusted one last time, burying his depraved seed deep in her freshly raped pussy.

With a free hand he rubbed below the Cunt, feeling the puckered tight asshole. Picking up the spade again he tossed it upward in the air, catching the messy blade head. Without warning or care he forced the handle of the spade up so far into her ass he felt it give way. He pushed and pushed until the handle and shaft were all but invisible.

Tears, snot and blood poured down the ladies face. Her pleas for death growing more and more desperate as the agonising seconds of her bleed out continued.

Revelling in the post nut intensity, with a clear mind, Geoff zipped himself up and studied his gory work of art. There in the middle of the shed, attached to his hand built slave restraint laid a lady, of whom he didn’t know one iota, a preverbal ghost in the machine.

There she lay restrained, no fingers nor toes, a broken nose and missing teeth with a spade as a makeshift tail that looked more so like a bright green prolapse than a butt plug.

Her suffering had been different to the others, but still all so enjoyable. Yet, Geoff could not ponder and observe as he loved to do, he could not play with his food forever, his familial timer was ticking down, as was the doomsday clock of the woman.

Taking a step back toward her, Geoff ran a delicate hand across her tear drenched cheek. Geoff took a long deserved second to eye the tool arrangement; seeing all manner of both gardening and woodworking tools, not the least of which was a handheld hacksaw, the blade freshly replaced.

Geoff looked back toward the woman’s whose eyes stared up at him with a deep hurt. Fear, worry, terror. All the primal emotions swam in her eyes as Geoff felt a sigh blow out of his lungs.

Walking away from her momentarily he walked to the wall, grabbing the saw down he walked back over, placing the blade swiftly across her neck.

The victim’s eyes widened, a sense of finality filled the air. Yet, surprisingly, Geoff stopped, placing the saw on the girl’s midsection. Cracking his knuckles Geoff sighed once more;

“I don’t think you should see this.” He said to the woman who lay silent, her eyes saying more than her voice ever could. In a twisted sense of morality Geoff bestowed the gift onto the woman of not seeing her own demise…by digging his manly thumbs deep into her soul windows.

Gouging her eyes, the lady screamed once more, the putrid pop of her eyeballs grew Geoff to full mast once more.

Otherworldly screams of pain leapt from the ladies hoarse and coarse throat. Fortunately, Geoff thought, for his ears sake, the saw would do away with those pesky vocal cords.

Picking up the hacksaw yet again he placed the rugged teeth of the blade against the soft pasty skin of the young 20 year old, her brown hair falling away from her tender neck.

As if cutting a board to size Geoff began sawing; flesh, meat and tendons, veins and arteries came to meet him and all fell against the blade, massive and monstrous amounts of blood poured fourth, spilling onto the floor, the drain it’s final destination.

Before long the sawing found it’s groove and, sooner than he expected the teeth hit the wood on the other side of the head. The lady’s face falling to the floor limply, her nose crunching as it cushioned the landing.

Geoff studied her body as it now lay limp; the artwork finished. Drinking in the deplorable visage he sucked in a deep blood filled air gasp, the taste metallic and bitter.

Studying his watch he shook his head in annoyance and moved toward her arm, the blade making short work of it.

From the arms to the legs and finally the torso. Geoff cut the body down into more manageable pieces before taking what he could and shoved it in the bag he had used to choke her.

Once she was promptly stowed he reached for the shed squeegee and mopped up the blood, forcing it down the drain, never to be seen again.

Geoff approached the shed door, the bag of body parts thrown over his shoulder like yesterday’s trash. With his free hand he reached for the still cool pitcher of lemonade.

Quickly he drank down the remainder of the contents, placing the empty bottle on the tray. With both his physical and primal thirsts quenched he unclasped the lock and took the bag outside.

The afternoon sun blared overhead. Geoff walked a few paces and dumped the bag next to a budding and beautiful rose garden. Doubling back with a sigh he walked into the shed and retrieved a shovel and a bucket of fertiliser.

He slammed it into the earth around the rose bush and delicately lifted it from the earth into a nearby growing pot.

Now, with the ground exposed and dirt not impacted Geoff began digging wide and deep hole. Where possible Geoff took a piece of his victim out and placed it in the hole but not before scanning the backyard for his family.

When the coast was clear and the hole was at its deepest he pulled an appendage out and threw it in. He sprinkled a haphazard hand of fertiliser on top of it and added a new, equally spread amount of aerated dirt.

At the very top of the garden bed he delicately placed the rose back in, extremely careful handling of the rose bush was taken.

Geoff went up and down the length of his backyard doing this, never failing to bury the pieces of the lady deep and intimately. Feet and toes, hands and fingers first. Followed by the big ticket items.

Now, under the house’s side window he heard his wife call from inside the kitchen, obviously on the phone;

“He’s just the sweetest. did I tell you he’s building a garden fixture? I hope the kids get his love of the craft.” She said to an unknown caller, her voice filled with love.

Geoff smiled, pulling his attention away from the phone conversation as he made the hole in the dirt just a little wider. With an unexpected chuckle he brought the severed head of the victim out, the popped eyeballs creating hollow chasms in the face, a look of fear and loss painted into the very skin of the woman whose name escaped him.

As he buried the skull, head face up, he chucked the final handful of nutrient rich plant food across the dirt and affixed the rose bush back into place.

He stood upright now, looking through the house’s small side window, the insulation thin enough for his voice to travel through the glass.

With a sense of sexual calm, his bloodlust sated and carnal desires fed he politely and softly called;

“Gabby baby, we’re out of fertiliser.”

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Thanks for reading!!

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