Part 3 of the story 'Love' from the banned book 'Tales Of Depravity' available on Amazon and Lulu:
This has been banned on ebook on most eshops - but here it is on Lulu for any reader, for the time being at least... ebook version on lulu click here
It was 1981, the world feigned prosperity and hope for all. But no one wanted Maureen, nobody would employ her, no landlord would house her, she spent weeks on the streets on her release. Too ugly to sell her body even that female last prerogative for survival was taken from her. She forged a living by smashing the brains of the other vagrants and taking the few begged pounds from their pockets - she watched and waited all day until they scrounged enough from passers by. Finally Maureen found herself in a women’s refuge, where for the first time ever middle aged and young women listened to her terrible story with a sympathetic ear. She was given a room, given counseling and psychological support. But by now many of the things she suffered, many of the things she saw and done as a result of that suffering, could not be discussed. Maureen did feel glad and respected the humanity shown to her, hands of compassion finally reaching out to her, but it was too late. The kind women had no real answers for her sexual needs - when Maureen complained that no man would want her the counselors were stunned and speechless. What could be said? Anyway, deep down in her heart Maureen knew she couldn’t trust anyone now, couldn’t let herself be loved never mind love. All hope was gone, but the urges didn’t go away. The psychologists tried their very best, they really did, and Maureen thanked them. But her flashbacks and nightmares continued, her urge to punish didn’t cool. She didn’t admit this to her counselors, she didn’t want to disappoint them and this tiny feeling of human being she clung on to - the desire to please another person. A person who only wanted the best from you for the best intentions (something politicians always exploit). Maureen always held on to this photon of light which to her was as bright as the sun. She also didn’t want to admit this because she knew nothing could be done, she was beyond repair and the only sense of happiness and satisfaction she could now have in this wretched life - regardless of how superficial this satisfaction may be - was to indulge in violence and sexual gratification.
After spending several months in the women’s refuge, Maureen was asked if she cared for any kind of vocation. She cunningly explained she’d dearly like to help other vulnerable people: the elderly, women, children. Shortly afterwards she was sent to a care home looking after children of both sexes, another block looking after vulnerable women, another block the elderly - run by social services and nuns. At age 22 Maureen became a matron in this huge Edwardian refuge, she was to spend 24 years there in a reign of terror. In this godforsaken place children from drug ridden abusive families, orphans of drug addicts, women coming off drugs or escaping violent drunken husbands, elderly underclass and working class people discarded by families who didn’t care - people the state never cared about therefore ceased to care for themselves. The Nuns, surprisingly, were very unpleasant to these ungodly people who surely wouldn’t get past St Peter at the pearly gates - some of those Sisters she knew and they trembled upon meeting her again. The social workers only mocked these minions in their care, battered and molested the children, left the women to rot, left the elderly to die. Maureen was not surprised - knowing these institutions too well - she would enjoy unleashing her fury with impunity on these luckless innocents just as she was once mistreated. And why not? Better to reign in terror than to serve in fear. Those Nuns had much punishment coming their way - Maureens legs knocked with excitement.
Sister Beatrice was her first victim, the old hag, 60 years old, was bathing and molesting a three year old boy - slapping him and barking at him when he wailed. The holy bitch trembled and begged clemency when Maureen entered the bathroom, locked the door, and undressed. Sister Beatrice was ordered to strip, enter the bath with the boy, suck his cock whilst cursing God and pledging allegiance to all ways of flesh. Suck the brats asshole, fondle his body, have him bite her cunt and lick the old clit. A can of petrol and a large butchers knife ensured the Nuns compliance. Maureen manhandled the boy everywhere, sucking his young flesh, chanting “Lamb of God you harbour all the sins of the world, grow up and spread horror”, the Nun was compelled to chant also, with a knife swinging in the air to ensure obedience. Maureen slobbered over the Nun, forced Beatrice to admit Maureen is so beautiful she should become a lapdancer or earn herself a fortune in prostitution. Beatrice, still in the bath with the boy, was ordered to empty the can of petrol into the bath as Maureen dressed herself. She had to promise the terrified Nun no match would be lit if she complied, disobedience would be “slash and burn” for both her and the boy. Sister Beatrice complied, though a twisted women due to celibacy and religion, she did not want the boy to come to any real harm. Maureen smiled, lit a match, and walked out of the bathroom and far away. The screams of nun and boy were horrible, screams of agony to which Maureen masturbated in privacy. A lazy police investigation ensued, Maureen had already spread rumours in the three weeks previous of Sister Beatrice’s increasing senility and odd behaviour - it was written off as a sick suicide case much to Maureen’s satisfaction.
Doing her night duty in the women’s refuge block, Maureen was glad to receive a young woman from the streets. Aged 22 like herself, a heroin addict, it took the poor creature some time to realise she was already a previous victim of Maureen’s - rightfully so as she enjoyed bullying Maureen and getting her into trouble with the Nuns. The wretched creature was dragged off to an attic room far up in an unused part of that old building. There she was tied naked to a cot and fed bread and water. For the first month her comedown from the heroin was terrible, she screamed and wailed for skag, only to get beatings and sexual abuse. So far out in an unused wing, two unused floors below her, no one heard her scream. Maureen reveled at the wretches heavy sweating, her pallor, her fear and trembling, her sickness. This ill fated creature had to beg Maureen for forgiveness countless times per day, suck that oversized clitoris, suck that brown nipple, suck the asshole and let herself be treated as a toilet for every sort of ordure Maureen cared to excrete, emit or micturate. Maureen loved making the girl drink her periods that big bloody bush had to be groomed clean by her tongue. The girl herself endured so many fistfuckings her vagina was permanently dilated and her ass always leaked. The poor creature had to pose this way and that, watch Maureen pose and commend her physical beauty. When Maureen wasn’t savagely beating her, she was hugging her - telling her ‘baby’ she loved her and was moved to anger if the girl did not respond with “I love you too” immediately, softly, emotively. Maureen needed that superficial love, to spice up her fuckeries, the only love she trusted and could swallow. Several months imprisoned in this attic, the girl begged for release, instead Maureen brought her some ‘lovers’. The girl obviously needed lots of love, just like Maureen. The result? Dozens of male clientele per week, the young woman was prostituted at a very cheap rate. Subject to countless sexual humiliations, she eventually gave up hiding her nakedness in embarrassment at the many leering men - she apathetically opened her legs and exposed everything, posed this way and this, shit and pissed, became a toilet, became a punchbag, became an instrument of sexual relief. She wanted to die, Maureen beat her, molested her, fucked her asshole and cunt with her clitoris, fucked the girls nostrils, and brought more clients. It took a year and a half for the woman to finally perish. Her corpse was still subjected to battery and fuckery by Maureen, and two dozen regular clients were happy to give her corpse one last good fucking before the maggots conquered it. Even when it was totally rotten, Maureens revenge wasn’t satisfied - even in death she remained bound, an instrument of battery and fuckery until she fell apart and scattered about the floor. Rotten limbs and torso, a skull also, gave way to the maggots - the skeleton always served as a plaything of Maureen’s. The femur as a dildo, the skull as a pisspot and shit bowl, the fingertips as clit and sphincter stimulators.
Tell it to your friends and come back for part 6 :)