Beyond Hell and Back Ch. 03

"Okay, hang in tight there, lass. My accomplice and I shall return in just a jiffy," said Farrah. "You be good now, and don't go running off on us!"

They adjourned to the far side of the chamber.

"Let's make her a little deal," Holly whispered, showing her the large bills she'd found in the girl's purse. "She's got four hundred bucks here in 100s."

Farrah made a proud face. "Nice find," she said.

"Right. Now check it out: I've got an idea."

So Becka was granted another five-minute break. When Holly was done laying out her scheme, Farrah went and fetched her a long, thin slab of wood shaped like a ruler. Farrah and Holly returned to the bin, Holly with ruler in hand, Farrah picking up the plug and socket again.

Holly smacked the ruler down on the side of the bin, producing an echoing whack! sound that made Becka jump. "All right, students, class is in session," Holly strictly announced. "Now here's the deal, young lady. Today we're gonna have a little pop quiz."

Becka looked up at her with a strange, confused expression.

"The quiz will be five questions," she continued. "And while these are not essay questions, it won't exactly be an open-book exam either. So I hope you studied hard. Answering correctly shall keep you out of trouble, but should you answer incorrectly, severe penalties will follow. Do you understand?"

Becka squeaked out, "I...guess, but...why?"

"Hey—!" Holly whapped the bin with the ruler again. "What did we say when we brought you into our classroom? We're asking the questions here. Now then, let's begin. Question one: did you or did you not already have any money with you at the time you took my girlfriend's?"

Becka'd had a lapse of memory. She'd completely forgotten about the additional $400 in her purse.

"Um...no," she whimpered in what she believed was honesty.

Holly orally imitated a game show buzzer. "Wrong!" Immediately after which, Farrah gave her a predictable wet jolt. Once Becka started calming down from this most recent unwelcome exchange, Holly explained to her, "You see, young lady, we've found an extra $400 in your purse..."

Becka suddenly remembered. She tried to start explaining that she'd forgotten, but didn't get two words out.

"...And decided each of our pop quiz questions today will be worth $100 of it," Holly said, keeping her silent. "Ergo, that incorrect answer just cost you $100."

"Hey, b—that's mine!" Becka objected.

"Oh, certainly, now that you remembered it," countered Holly. "Too bad you got the first question wrong. Perhaps you'll do better on number two: how old must one be to legally purchase cigarettes in this state?"

"...Tw-...21?" said Becka, trying to obtain herself an excuse for stealing the smokes.

"Then again, perhaps not. The correct answer's 18, Becka. Sorry, that's another $100."

"Oh, God," she squealed, bracing herself for the next shock...but it didn't come. She opened one eye under the blindfold, then the other, waited a moment, and relaxed. Oh...guess I won't get electrocuted this time. Whew.

And then the next shock came. Zzzzzzzt!

The pain accompanying this one was almost dulled a little by the mental incredulity Becka got from the magnitude of sheer cruelty being administered upon her. Oh my God, that was so mean!! she thought. These two really were from hell!

"All right, young lady, question three," said Holly after another minute. "Have you mugged anyone else other than my girlfriend?"

Oh, God, she mentally repeated. "I-I-I..." She pouted and shivered. "I don't remember."

"Oh really?" Holly asked. "Would you like us to, uh...jolt your memory?"

She shook her head. "Mm-mm!"

"Then think. Come on now, we'd hate to have to nail you on multiple counts of theft. And I'm sure you're a pretty smart girl, smart enough not to make the same mistake twice, right?" she asked, manipulating her mind.

Becka thought. "Uh, r-...right! Right."

Holly shook her head.

"WRONG." Another zap, another outburst of agony, another $100.

"We also located some items in your purse belonging to a lady named Susan Day," Holly elaborated. "I think she may be interested in having a word or two with you herself." The girl cringed through the pain and shut her eyes, slowly starting too to remember this.

"Question four," Holly grinned. Oh, she was going to enjoy this. "If you have $400, and each pack of cigarettes costs $10, how many packs can you buy?"

Oh, God, Becka thought again. An academic one...she tried to get her mind in gear. That's pretty much simple division, the logical part of her brain told her, so, four hundred divided by ten is...

"Forty!" she said.

"OH!" exclaimed Holly, knowing forty was exactly what she'd say. "So close!" She threw Farrah the signal.

"WHAT?!" she cried, immediately after which—

ZZZZZzzzzt! "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!"

"You see, hon, you forgot to figure in the sales tax. So the answer is really thirty-seven whole packs, with some change left over. But even had you gotten that correct, you don't have $400 anymore. I'm afraid you've just lost it all."

"Wh-...b-..." Becka choked back the tears and sniffled. "Y-...you tricked me!" she declared.

"Not exactly," said Holly. "Just planted a small trap you were not quite sharp enough to avoid."

Becka would have tried to bring herself to her feet and hop out, but she was drained of strength. She turned her face away from Holly. "I hate you," she uttered, really addressing Holly in this instance, but speaking in Farrah's direction.

"Aw, that's too bad," Farrah said to her. "You know, who you should really hate is yourself. Just out of curiosity, little girl, what made you decide to enter the lucrative field of the criminal arts?"

"I, um, I drmmuhduhkuh."

"Sorry? What was that again, Becka?"

"...I dropped out of school."

Holly, the teacher, gasped. "You dropped out of school?!" she exclaimed. "Shame on you!" she exclaimed. "Well, unfortunately, you weren't able to hold on to any of your money, so, I guess you know what that means. Last question, number five: what is Miss Farrah going to do to you for getting a big fat zero on our little pop quiz?"

The girl just wept. "Please don't electrocute me again," she sobbed.

"Nope," Farrah replied with one shake of the head. "No more electrocution."

"A-...are you going to kill me?" she asked, whispering the last two words.

The Hellmistress gave a small closed-mouth chuckle.

"Oh, I have no intention of killing you, Becka," she heard Farrah's voice say. "None at all."

It still didn't help put Becka's mind at ease, but Farrah continued. "It wouldn't accomplish anything productive, really; after all, you are already in hell. Besides which, what I'm gonna do to you is worse than death." She got up and again returned to the area where they'd gotten the bin.

"Oh, God...what? What? What are you gonna do?" Becka wailed.

"Well," said Holly, picking up her ankles, "We're gonna start by untying your feet..." She gave her feet a little tickle, then began undoing the twine. "But don't get excited; you're not going anywhere just yet."

Becka obediently lay still to have her feet untied, which Holly finished doing just about the time Farrah returned from around the corner...with something else on her.

Again, Holly and Farrah picked the girl up, all four limbs in their four arms, lifting her out of the bin and laying her on the floor. They next picked up the bin, turned it over, doused the girl with the water and placed it back on the floor beside her, bottom up. "Okay, little girl, time to perform the final act, which will bring your little trip through hell to a close."

The last words might have comforted her mind just a bit, but she was still petrified, trying to get water out of her nose, mouth and ears. "What's that?" she mumbled, wiping her face on her arms.

As they again took her arms and legs and lay her now on top of the upside-down bin, Holly stepped in with the next query. "Well, let me ask you something before she gets into that, Becka." She paused for a beat and asked her sternly, "Are you going to rob anybody again?"

Becka was desperate. "NO! Never! I swear, I never will again!"

"Now you think hard about this, Becka. You've seen what can happen to you when you do an especially bad thing. And for most, doing dishonest things leads to doing more dishonest things: lying, cheating, stealing, et cetera. So when you answer this question, you'd better mean it. Are you EVER...going to attack or steal from another human being again for the rest of your life?"

She answered again immediately the same way. "NO. I promise! Never!"

Holly looked at Farrah. "Mm, I dunno...what do you think?"

Farrah shrugged. "Well, she seems pretty sincere to me."

"Don't forget, Becka, Miss Farrah will know if you ever do something like this again."

She nodded fearfully. "I won't! I-I-I won't forget, and I won't ever do it again."

They wanted a few minutes. Finally, Holly said, "...I think we can believe her."

"Yeah," Farrah agreed. "All right, little girl, we believe you."

"Oh, thank you," Becka said quietly.

"Yeah," said Farrah, starting to spread her legs apart. "So, tell you what...you flunked your little pop quiz, but you do seem pretty apologetic, so I'll ease up on you a little..." She stroked the strap-on she was wearing as if masturbating an actual penis. "...And so, I'm just gonna rape you for half an hour."

Becka's brain sent the signal to her lungs to explode. "WHAT??!" she erupted, close to a pitch only dogs could hear.

Farrah leered down at her, maliciously chuckling at her.

Becka let out a "NOOOOOOOOO!" just about the same pitch as her previous outburst. Farrah returned to the area where all her supplies were kept. Becka's legs were now free, but she still didn't see what good could be accomplished. If she tried anything, they'd just catch her. Holly returned her eyes to the window.

"Oh, Miss Farrah, the sun's starting to come up," she remarked.

"Is it? Well. Better take care of this right now then," said Farrah, coming back with the object in her hand, grasping onto Becka's thighs close enough to keep them immobile and also to spread her labia apart.

Becka's body went nauseous and her stomach flipped. She tried to sit up and bat Farrah's hands away with her own entwined front paws. "Uh, Holly doll," Farrah called to her. Holly noticed. She trotted to the back side of the bin, grabbed her wrists, pulled them back down above her head and held her down, to Becka's dismay and incessant tantrums.

"The more you complain, the worse it'll be," Holly warned her. "You had better stop the whining, you little slimeball. Miss Farrah doesn't like that. If you start whining and crying, she WILL tickle the shit out of you till you can't breathe. Trust me, you can take my word for it; I found that out the hard way."

Once Farrah'd got Becka's vagina open wide enough, she touched the cattle prod she'd just fetched to it. "Now, Becka, little girl, first of all, let me show you what I'm not going to do to you." Zap!

Becka let loose a voice-destroying siren of a scream that blew all her previous screams out of the water. The pain in her tender vagina was excruciating, and indescribable. It hurt SO bad. She didn't think there were any tears left in her. She was very wrong.

Holly almost felt that herself. DAMN, she thought. Glad you never gave ME a taste of that thing.

"See that, Becka? I am not gonna do that to you at this time. But should it prove necessary to bring you back to justice and back to my dungeon after this morning, now you've an idea what you may expect."

She tossed the cattle prod to the floor. "Now then, on with the rape." She again pried her pussy lips open enough to ease the strap-on in, grabbed her by the calves, pulled her to a steeper angle and indeed commenced to penetrating her. Becka heard the warning Holly had given her about complaining and crying, but she couldn't help it. Feeling the penetration and invasion of her vagina against her will, she screamed and writhed like an infant.

"Go ahead, scream as loud as the hell you want," Farrah told her. "No one's gonna hear ya."

As for Holly, she was no longer needed, so she released Becka's restrained wrists and returned to her belongings. She put the $37 Becka'd taken from Rache in Rache's purse, and returned the $400 to Becka's. She wanted Becka to think she was taking the money from her, but Holly just wasn't by nature a thief, so she didn't. What she did take with her, however, was the additional purse Becka had snitched—which belonged to the woman named Susan Day—so she could give it back to her.

Watching the performance, she could very well have possibly become entertained and highly turned on, but she was getting sleepy, and she really just wanted to get back home to her Rachel. Slinging both purses over her shoulder, Holly turned back to them. "All right, I'm leaving," she loudly announced so Farrah could hear her over Becka's outraged protests.

Farrah didn't say anything, but just kept her smiling eyes on Becka's horrified face.

"Thanks for the help, Miss Farrah," shouted Holly. Looking down at their young friend, she added, "And thank you for the money, Becka. This'll be able to take care of much more than just the hospital bill for which you owe us. Now, I think I'll go buy something nice for my girlfriend...something to the tune of about $400." Again, only making the girl believe she'd taken her money, adding illusory insult to injury.

Becka kept trying to get away from Farrah, but her legs were at too steep an angle from the rest of her body, and Farrah had too strong a grip on her. She made what seemed like every possible desperate tortured sound a human being could, but Farrah wasn't fazed in the least. She'd heard them all dozens of times before.

"STOP it!!" Becka futilely yelled at her. "Get off me! Let me GO!!"

Farrah laughed a petrifying villainous laugh. "You're saying that as if you actually expect me to do it," she shouted back down at the terror-riddled Becka.

"Oh, God, I hate you!! Stop it, you sick fucking bitch!" she cried.

Again, not fazed. "Now just what the hell do you think I'm gonna do when you say that?" Farrah chuckled at her matter-of-factly.

"FUCK YOU!" Becka screamed at Farrah, her explosive outbursts continuing to bounce right off her.

"You're adorable," she commented. Punctuating her remark, Farrah threw her head back and delivered the most wicked, dynamic, horrifying cackle Becka had ever heard. Becka could have sworn she heard a rumbling crash of thunder accompany the laugh.

"Oh, cheer up, kid," Farrah told her. "The nightmare's almost over."

Ten to fifteen more minutes of sheer torture later, Farrah finally decided she'd had enough and pulled the strap-on all the way out of the girl's almost bleeding wrecked purple cunt. At this point, however, it seemed as if nothing could provide Becka any measure of relief or comfort whatsoever. Farrah knew what she still could get her, though. She sat the bucket on the floor and untied the soaked blindfold from the girl's eyes. Becka rolled over from the top of the bin to the floor, next to the bucket, stared down into it...and the Hellmistress gave her a moment of privacy.

Farrah put the strap-on away, returned to the eighteen-year-old no-longer-virgin and plucked her wet, sticky strands of hair out of her forehead to brush them behind her ears. She dropped into the lav one more time to get her some paper towels. She tore some off the roll and handed them to her. "Here, blow."

She squatted down in front of Becka. "Congratulations, little girl," she said. "You survived."

Becka had no strength to argue or grouse anymore. She still hated Farrah, and still felt utterly destroyed by her, whether she deserved any of it or not, but couldn't muster the energy to say or do anything about it. And though Becka didn't know it, now that the sun was up, Farrah had turned human for the day.

Five more minutes went by for Becka to get her face cleaned up. She guessed she should probably go ahead and get dressed now, but then what would she do after that...on top of everything else, she'd spent the last two and a half hours being traumatized, mistreated, abused and overall feeling like her guts had been ripped out. Though if she were entirely honest with herself, it wasn't as if she'd never mistreated another person in her life. She didn't know if she deserved a castigation of quite this measure to even things up, but one thing was for certain: she was indeed never going to assault or steal from another innocent person ever again.

"Well then," Farrah said. "I suppose that one option is we could take you to the cops..."

Becka looked at her wide-eyed. There was something she wanted very much to say to her vis-à-vis this suggestion, but Farrah went on, "...but you've already served a pretty impressive sentence in my little prison here. And somehow, I have a feeling you won't be doing anything like that again."

The girl vigorously shook her head in agreement that she wouldn't.

"Well, under the circumstances," replied Farrah, "Now that you've seen what happens when you misbehave—and as long as you remember what can happen again, at any point—and don't you EVER forget it, little girl—if you share the details of our morning together..." she pointed to her with an ominous voice, making her shiver, "I suppose I can take you back home."

Becka was dreading this, even though she'd just wanted the ordeal to be over from the beginning. "I..." she muttered. "I, um...I can't go home."

"Why not?"

Again, Becka was really not keen on confiding in a woman who had just done all these horrific things to her, culminating in ripping her virginity right out of her, but she also figured what choice did she have, and she'd seen what happened when she didn't answer the woman's questions. Becka lifelessly explained to Farrah that being a kleptomaniac, when her parents originally learned that she had begun stealing, they had given her chance after chance to straighten herself up and stop, but when she ultimately just couldn't, they had to resort to the psych ward, from which she'd busted out and run away no more than just a couple of days ago. And for these last couple days, her parents were still under the impression she was being treated at the ward.

When she finished her story, Farrah processed the info.

"Well, Becka, I think you know what you have to do then."

They both knew.

"Come on, then," Farrah told her. "Up and at 'em. Get dressed."

***

May 31st, 7:07 a.m.

Holly had made a quick trip to the 24-hour pharmstore on the way home to get a present for her beloved. She had now of course softened from the way she'd felt six hours ago. A small part of her did feel a little sorry for Becka even though things happened the way they did, but she knew Farrah would straighten her out. And she also knew she couldn't hold focus on this; she couldn't concentrate on the past, recent or distant. She had to keep her eyes on the present and immediate future. And on the way home, she'd thought of a wonderful way to do so.

She made a mental note to locate and contact Miss Susan Day about her stolen property and return it to her, rounded the corner back around to Rosebud Avenue, hoping to heaven Rachel was still there (and also hopefully still asleep, though if necessary she'd settle for her just being there). She was, Holly contentedly noted. She parked, collected the purses and took them inside.