Mod Chrisso was huddled in a corner of his jail cell holding his knees. He felt cold sweat running along his forhead. He didn't dare look behind him, but that face... He could feel it staring 
through him even now. It started with him being arrested due to that damn boy, but that wasn't near as bad as who was in the jail cell across from him. From the moment he arrived he was 
being stared at, watched silently... 

Chrisso decided to check if he was still watching. He turned his head- yup. A large black man stood with a shiteating grin staring into his soul. Chrisso thinks he recognizes him as a british chef,
Ainsley harriot was it? He has not blinked nor taken his eyes off of him since he arrived. He has not said a word nor moved, simply stood there staring into his soul. 

It is two days later, mod chrisso is being driven home. When he woke up the day before he was released ainsley was gone from his cell, he must have been released. Thank goodness for that.

When he arrives he notices a string of pink balloons and a pink haired girl and man standing waiting for him. 
"Your home!" the pink haired girl - mod poppy said
He had always liked his co-worker poppy, pink was his favourite color. He didn't know if she was married or not.
The man next to her was his brother steve, who gave him a hug. 
After finishing introductions they went inside the house, unknowing they were being watched.
Ainsley, never taking off his grin, was waiting for night to fall. 

Mod chrisso awoke, he tried to move but found he couldn't. He was bound, quickly looking around thinking it was a joke he found his friend and brother next to him. T
hey were bound, gagged and propped against the wall like him. He could tell they were awake before him, they looked at him with pleading eyes. 
He thought he recognized the place as his basement, pitch black. 
Their attention snapped as a man walked into the room. Chrisso's heart sank
Ainsley harriot approached them.

As Ainsley approached, Poppy struggled against the ropes.  Ainsley laughed, and grabbed one of her hands.  
He twisted, at first slow, watching the pain visibly grow in her eyes, but then yanked hard, smiling slightly when he heard the snap and the muffled whimper that came from Poppy.  
He then threw her to the ground.

Never taking off his grin he then went to a toolbox and took out a rusty knife with a jagged blade and dropped it in front of the three.  
“I’m gonna take off those gags now,” he said. His voice was a quiet whisper, chrisso shuddered.  “The first one of you to scream gets their tongues cut out.”

He took off Steve’s gag first.  He looked up at him with terror, but managed to stay quiet.  Next was Poppy.  
She let out a strangled whine and was breathing heavily, still in horrendous pain from her broken hand, but managed to resist the temptation.  
Finally, he removed the gag from Chrisso.  He stared at him with his large round eyes, filled with fear and incomprehension.  
This was Ainsley after all, the chef from that one show.  Wasn’t he?  Surely this was just a horrible joke?  
But she had seen what he had done to Poppy’s hand, and it was definitely no joke.  He took a deep breath.


“MOMMY—“
Ainsley shoved his hand in Chrisso’s mouth, silencing his scream.  He sighed and shook his head.  “I tole you not to scream, Chrisso.  You should listen to your big daddy.”
“I’ll…I’ll scream, and scream again, and my mom will hear and, and…” Chrisso said, falteringly.
“Ya know, I kinda hope you do.  After all, whats one more to join our fun?  If you want your mom to join y’all down here, scream away.  
I, for one, would welcome her company.  But now, to business.”

Ainsley picked up the knife, and loomed over the cowering Chrisso.  He pinned her down with a powerful foot, and stuck the knife into Chrisso’s mouth.  
Steve vomited at the sight, the thick yellow chunks and acidic-smelling liquid spattering heavily on the floor. 
Poppy managed not to be sick, but rather gasped and sobbed and choked with panic.  
Ainsley forced open Chrisso’s mouth and with some effort cut out his tongue.  Chrisso tried to scream but his mouth was too full of blood, so it was more of a muted gurgle.  
After a short while he collapsed, tears streaming from his eyes, falling unconscious from the shock and the pain.  
Ainsley then took the tongue and rolled it in the puddle of putrid vomit on the floor.  He smiled at Poppy.
“Ya hungry?”

Poppy shook her head vigorously and cast him a defiant glare. 


Ainsley shrugged. He shoved the vomit-covered tongue into Poppy’s mouth, and used his hand to clamp her mouth shut.  
“Don’t you go tryin’ to spit it out now,” he said calmly, with a little laugh and the lady struggled and squirmed.  “Din’t your mother ever tell you how important it is to chew your food?”
Poppy closed her eyes and flailed her one good arm desperately, eventually swallowing Chrisso’s tongue.  
Ainsley, still holding the writhing Poppy down with his strong hands, then mounted the pink lady and slid his penis into her tight virgin pussy,
raping her for several minutes while Steve watched, trembling with revulsion.  Chrisso was still out cold, blood pouring from his torn-up mouth.
“I think I know a bug for you to fix chrisso” Ainsley said with tender mockery as he fucked Poppy, followed by a gentle chuckle.  

Eventually he withdrew from Poppy, and gripped her head tight and repeatedly punched her hard with a fist in the face, causing her nose to shatter and spurt with blood.  
He scooped up some of the blood and some of Steve’s vomit with his tongue and held it in his mouth, so that it mixed with his saliva, 
and then brought his mouth close to Poppy’s and spat the rank mixture into her mouth.  
He clamped his hand over her mouth and held her nose until she gagged and eventually had no choice but to swallow.

As Poppy retched and spat and cried, he turned to Steve.  He grabbed him by the foot easily, as he was too shocked and traumatised to respond, 
and with apparent amusement he rammed his foot up Poppy’s ass.  The foot was too big, so the skin around Poppy’s ass ripped and blood and fecal matter first trickled 
and then poured profusely down onto Steve’s face, as well as urine as Poppy pissed herself.

“You keep doin’ that, Steve,” he said.  Chrisso's brother carried on pushing his foot up Poppy’s anus, slowly but surely.  
Her normally well groomed pink hair was now stained a reddish-brown, glistening with the wetness of the piss and blood. 
“If ya stop, I’ll come over there and get creative.” Ainsley said, with a wink.

He went to Chrisso and penetrated his little unconscious body with his hard cock.  
While he violated him, with another knife, this one sharp and shiny, and sliced open his stomach, causing his glistening intestines to flop out wetly onto the floor. 
He glanced over, and was pleased to see that Steve was still using his foot to anally penetrate Poppy, and his face was now completely covered in blood and feces and urine.

He turned his attention back to Chrisso, and scooped up his crimson entrails and wrapped them around his neck, 
still fucking the man, and with his hands he pulled and pulled until it was wrapped so tightly around Chrisso’s neck that it broke his windpipe. 
He was now surely dead, but Ainsley continued fucking him furiously until his body began to lose form and collapse into a quivering, huge mass of blood and flesh.  
He carried on until he was fucking nothing but a single swollen and bloody hole, and then discarded Chrisso's carcass as though he was  nothing more than a rotten apple core.


He then took the knife, and grabbed Steve and tossed him aside.  
He forced himself into Poppy’s ruined anus, and then took the knife and cut from her ass in a sweeping motion up to her belly,
and all her innards fell out.  He then grabbed her head, twisted and tore it clean off, using his immense strength, 
and fucked it in the mouth and then tossed it aside.  He then had sex with her headless body, both in the vagina and the ass until he got bored.


Steve was the last remaining.  He was himself barely conscious, overcome with the nauseous stench of blood, shit and piss that covered his foot and face.  
Ainsley pinned Steve down with his hand and plunged the knife into his green eye, and twisted, causing fluid to dribble out onto the handle.  
At that, Steve let out a throaty whine and involuntarily emptied his bowels, and the aroma of fresh urine and feces filled the basement once again.  
He withdrew the knife and did the same to the other eye, each time holding him tight and sticking his hand into his mouth to silence his agonised screams.  
He licked the fluid that had leaked onto the knife, and then began cutting and hacking at her left hand using the rusty knife. 
The knife was quite blunt, so it took effort to get through the skin, bone and cartilage, but eventually the bone splintered and the hand came off.  
He did the same to his other hand, until both were amputated and nothing remained but bloody stumps, and broken bone shards hanging out.  
At some point Steve had passed out, the overwhelming pain too much for him to bear.


He then used the knife to gouge out his left eye and jammed his penis into his eye socket, penetrating repeatedly deep into his brain, 
enjoying how tight his skull felt around his hard shaft and how warm and squishy the brain-matter felt against the tip of his throbbing penis.  
As he did he twisted Steve’s neck.  After he had finished skull-fucking him, he cracked open his skull with a swift stamp of his fist, 
and bent down and ate some of the exposed brain, taking care to spit out a few fragments of skull bone that had got mixed in as he chewed. 
It was warm and slimy and tough, and stuck to the back of his throat.  He swallowed, and then raped Steve in the ass until it tore open and his engorged penis was smeared with what 
little fecal matter remained in his rectum.


Ainsley looked around the room, looking for an object he could use. He noticed a barrel of potato's, perfect.
Ainsley took a potato and walked over to steve. He shoved it inside his ass, and then fucked Chrisso and Poppy’s bodies the same way, 
forcing the potato in as far as it could go.  
He thought how strange it was that the lump of a potato that he was fucking with Steve’s leg had once been food for them. 
But now, all three were dead, and he finished by spurting his huge load into Chrisso’s destroyed backside.  
He watched with satisfaction as the semen and blood and shit mixed together, forming a foamy maroon pool.  
He bent down and greedily lapped up some of it with his tongue, pressing his tongue deep into his anal cavity so as not to miss any, letting some dribbling down his chin.  
It tasted foul of course, a rancid, tangy slime that burned his throat, but it felt so satisfying.  
He swallowed the filthy goo, and wiped his mouth.  It was done.  Ainsley could now get back to his jail cell and wait for the next.