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Sometime during the night, she chloroformed him. He hadn't slept; how could he?
When he awoke, he noticed two things. Wendy was standing before him, smirking as always, and she was, once again, completely naked. But there was something else. "Look around," she said to him in her happy voice. Bound to the X-cross across the room was another naked man. He focussed his eyes on him, and for just one moment, their eyes locked . . . but he had nothing to say, even if his hoarse voice could have permitted it. He just stared. "Well . . . you're starting to bore me," she said, addressing her present victim, but talking to the room in general. "So here we go." There was a small brazier burning close by. She picked up the hunting knife with which she had mentally tortured him the day before. She ran the razor-sharp point of the knife along his outstretched testicles, his tortured penis, up along his naked torso, around his nipples, until she was looking him right in the face. "Say good-bye to your dick," she whispered in his ear. She grasped his penis, turned her face to make sure that her new victim was watching her, and then, smiling sweetly, with a single slash of her knife, she severed the quivering organ from his body. An agonized shriek escaped his parched lips. She threw the bloody length of flesh into the fire. It sizzled obscenely. She drew a red-hot iron from the fire and pressed it against the open wound. Instantly, the room was filled with the stink of burning flesh and the insane screams of what had once been a man. When the wound was fully cauterized, she tossed the iron back into the fire and turned to her new victim. "And now," she said, striding towards him, "It's your turn." The End
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