CODES: * means plain. The scene is unsatisfactory due to lack of length or detail. ** means average. *** means hot.
V is a warning for above average violent content. S is a warning for snuff content - the excerpt is usually from a crime novel.
Showing posts with label violent scene. Show all posts
Showing posts with label violent scene. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

V** A maniac makes an FBI agent listen in on the phone while he rapes a woman

Warning, the scene is very sadistic and violent compared to an average rape scene. It would have been more of a turn on without this. Also it has implied snuff content. In the audiobook version by Random House Audio this scene is shockingly intense.

Lisa Gardner, Say Goodbye (2008). The end of chapter 11. Excerpt from an eBook.

    The phone rang again shortly after two a.m. Kimberly wasn’t sleeping well, as if some part of her was expecting this moment. Beside her, she felt Mac tense at the first shrill note, and knew he’d been waiting, too.
    She sat up and flipped on a lamp. On the bedside table, she had positioned her cell phone, notepad, pen, and mini-recorder. Once again the display screen registered the toll-free number for the Atlanta FBI. This time, Kimberly wasn’t fooled.
    She gave Mac a slow nod of acknowledgment, then snapped on the mini-recorder. She answered her phone in the hands-free mode, so they could both hear.
    “Special Agent Quincy.”
    Nothing at first. No greeting, or crackle of a bad connection. Then, somewhere distant, as if in the background, that faint whisper again: “Shhhh…”
    Kimberly glanced at Mac. She brought the phone up between them, and with her ear closer, suddenly she could hear.
    Moaning. Panting. The slapping sound of flesh hitting flesh. A muffled cry of distress.
    “Do you like that? Is that good for you? Answer me!”
    A small, whimpered plea.
    “That’s what I thought.”
    Kimberly put her hand over her mouth to stifle her automatic cry of protest. Beside her, Mac had gone still. He’d heard it, too, and understood what it meant. They were eavesdropping on a sexual assault. Kimberly knew, because she had heard such tapes before, part of the work her father used to bring home before he realized his young daughters had taken to sneaking into his office and going through his things.
    Recorded? Live? She didn’t know, but she had seen the visuals that went with such sounds and already her stomach roiled…
    The whisper again, closer to the phone: “Shhhh…”
    Banging now. Hard, metallic. Handcuffs, pounding brutally against a metal headboard, as someone struggled to escape. Then, a low, unmistakable rasp. The sound of a blade, slowly sliding across a sharpening stone.
    All of a sudden, Kimberly understood this call was going to get much worse.
    Frantically, her shaking hand trying to scrawl the words across the page: TRACE IT!!!
    Mac throwing back the covers, leaping out of bed, grabbing for their landline.
    “You know what I want.”
    “Mmm, mmm, mmm.”
    “A name. Is one name really so hard? You just have to love her, that’s all. Give me someone you trust, call a friend, adore. That’s all I require of you. One single name. Then I promise your death will be quick.”
    “This is Special Agent Michael McCormack, requesting Special Agent Lynn Stoudt. I require immediate assistance-”
    A quick, short rip. Duct tape torn from the mouth.
    A wail. A long, thin, horrified scream that went on and on until Kimberly had her hand stuffed into her mouth and even then could feel that poor, exhausted cry reverberating down her spine.
    The voice, even closer now: “Shhhh…”
    “Tell me!”
    “Please…”
    The wick wick of metal slicing. A fresh, throaty scream.
    “I can skin you alive. Do you want to watch?”
    “Dear God, dear God, dear God…”
    “Darling, didn’t your mama ever tell you? There is no God! Just me. I am your savior and I am your damnation and you had better make me happy or I will flay the cheeks from your skinny white face. GIVE ME A NAME!”
    “I don’t kno-AAAGGH!”
    “ONE NAME!”
    “Please no, dear God no, please, please…”
    The girl was screaming. Wailing hysterically, and now the man was yelling, too, demanding a name over and over again while in between came terrible wet noises and a violent banging.
    Kimberly could feel herself start to disconnect. To disappear inside her skin, to spiral away from this moment, where a young girl begged for her life and a madman worked his knife.
    The voice in her ear: “Shhh…”
    Mac across the room: “Lynn, I need to be able to trace a phone call immediately. On my wife’s cell. Number-”
    “How does that feel? How does that fucking feel? It’s gonna get worse. I’m just going on and on and on, until you tell me a name…”
    “God, God, God.”
    “Didn’t you hear me? There is no GOD!”
    “AAAAAGH.”
    “Name, name, name. Tell me a-”
    “Karen. K-K-K-Karen.”
    “Karen who? What is her last name? How do you know her?”
    “I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know.”
    A fresh sharp scream as he did something terrible.
    “Liar! If you cared about her, you would know her full name. If she mattered, you could remember her fucking details.”
    “Please, please, please…”
    “One last chance. Make me happy. Or I swear to you, next cut will be someplace you really value. I’m counting. One…two…”
    “Virginia!” the female gasped. “Her name is Virginia. Ginny Jones.”
    “And why do you love her?!”
    “She is my daughter.”
    A pause.
    “Excellent,” the man said.
    And the next sound needed no explanation at all.

    Mac was shaking her. Had she blacked out? Kimberly didn’t want to think so. She had never fainted before in her life. She glanced down in bewilderment at the bed. Her cell phone was there, the screen blank.
Had it all been a bad dream?
    And then she looked up, saw the somber expression on Mac’s face, the worry bracketing his eyes.
    “The caller hung up,” he said quietly. “It’s over now.”
    But she shook her head. “No, Mac. It’s just begun.”

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

V*** A young nobleman claims his father’s new castle and rapes his former betrothed

Pillars of the Earth (1989) by Ken Follett, chapter 5. Excerpt from an eBook.

Characters:
William, son of the Earl of Shiring
Walter, William’s servant
Aliena, daughter of the imprisoned previous Earl of Shiring
Richard, Aliena’s little brother
Matthew, the previous Earl’s steward

   There was no sign of life. William suddenly thought that Aliena might have gone. What a disappointment that would be! He and Walter would have to spend a dreary, hungry night in a cold and dirty castle. They went up the outside steps to the hall door. “Quietly,” William said to Walter. “If they’re here, I want to give them a shock.”
   He pushed open the door. The great hall was empty and dark, and smelled as if it had not been used for months: as he had expected, they had been living on the top floor. William trod softly as he walked across the hall to the stairs. Dry reeds rustled under his feet. Walter followed dose behind.
   They climbed the stairs. They could hear nothing: the thick stone walls of the keep muffled all sound. Halfway up, William stopped, turned to Walter, put his finger to his lips, and pointed. There was a light shining under the door at the top of the stairs. Someone was here.
   They went on up the stairs and paused outside the door. From inside came the sound of a girlish laugh. William smiled happily. He found the handle, turned it gently, then kicked the door open. The laugh turned into a scream of fright.
   The scene in the room made a pretty picture. Aliena and her younger brother, Richard, were sitting at a small table, close to the fire, playing a board game of some kind, and Matthew the steward was standing behind her, looking over her shoulder. Aliena’s face was rose-colored in the glow of the fire, and her dark curls glinted with auburn lights. She wore a pale linen tunic. She was looking up at William with her red lips in a big O of surprise. William watched her, enjoying her fright, saying nothing. After a moment she recovered, stood up, and said: “What do you want?”
   William had rehearsed this scene many times in his imagination. He walked slowly into the room and stood by the fire, warming his hands; then he said: “I live here. What do you want?”
   Aliena looked from him to Walter. She was scared and confused, but nevertheless her tone was challenging. “This castle belongs to the earl of Shiring. State your business and then clear out.”
   William smiled triumphantly. “The earl of Shiring is my father,” he said. The steward grunted, as if he had been afraid of this. Aliena looked bewildered. William went on: “The king made my father earl yesterday, at Winchester. The castle now belongs to us. I’m the master here until my father arrives.” He snapped his fingers at the steward. “And I’m hungry, so bring me bread and meat and wine.”
   The steward hesitated. He threw a worried look at Aliena. He was afraid to leave her. But he had no choice. He went to the door.
   Aliena took a step toward the door, as if to follow him.
   “Stay here,” William ordered her.
   Walter stood between her and the door, barring her way.
   “You have no right to command me!” Aliena said, with a touch of her old imperiousness.
   Matthew spoke in a scared tone. “Stay, my lady. Don’t anger them. I’ll be quick.
   Aliena frowned at him, but she stayed where she was. Matthew went out.
   William sat in Aliena’s chair. She moved to her brother’s side. William studied them. There was a similarity between them, but all the strength was in the girl’s face. Richard was a tall, awkward adolescent, with no beard yet. William liked the sensation of having them in his power. He said: “How old are you, Richard?”
   “Fourteen years,” the boy said sullenly.
   “Ever killed a man?”
   “No,” he answered, then with a little attempt at bravado he added: “Not yet.”
   You’ll suffer too, you pompous little prick, William thought. He turned his attention to Aliena. “How old are you?”
   At first she looked as if she would not speak to him, but then she appeared to change her mind, perhaps remembering that Matthew had said Don’t anger them. “Seventeen,” she said.
   “My, my, the whole family can count,” William said. “Are you a virgin, Aliena?”
   “Of course!” she blazed.
   Suddenly William reached forward and grabbed her breast. It filled his big hand. He squeezed: it felt firm but yielding. She jerked back, and it slipped from his grasp.
   Richard stepped forward, too late, and knocked William’s arm aside. Nothing could have pleased William more. He came out of his chair fast and hit Richard in the face with a swinging punch. As he had suspected, Richard was soft: he cried out and his hands flew to his face.
   “Leave him alone!” Aliena cried.
   William looked at her with surprise. She seemed more concerned about her brother than about herself. That might be worth remembering.
   Matthew came back in carrying a wooden platter with a loaf of bread, a side of ham and a jug of wine on it. He paled when he saw Richard holding his hands to his face. He put the platter down on the table and went to the boy. Taking Richard’s hands away gently, he looked at the boy’s face. It was already red and puffy around the eye. “I told you not to anger them,” he muttered, but he seemed relieved that it was no worse. William was disappointed: he had hoped Matthew would fly into a rage. The steward threatened to be a killjoy.
   The sight of the food made William’s mouth water. He pulled his chair up to the table, took out his eating knife, and cut a thick slice, of ham. Walter sat opposite him. Through a mouthful of bread and ham, William said to Aliena: “Bring some cups and pour the wine.” Matthew moved to do it. William said: “Not you—her.” Aliena hesitated. Matthew looked at her anxiously and nodded. She came across to the table and picked up the jug.
   As she leaned over, William reached down, slipped his hand under the hem of her tunic, and rapidly ran his fingers up her leg. His fingertips felt slender calves with soft hair, then the muscles behind her knee, and then the soft skin of the inside of her thigh; then she jerked away, spun around, and swung the heavy wine jug at his head.
   William warded off the blow with his left hand and slapped her face with his right. He put all his force into the slap. His hand stung in a very satisfying way. Aliena screamed. Out of the corner of his eye William saw Richard move. He had been hoping for that. He pushed Aliena aside forcefully, and she fell to the floor with a thud. Richard came at William like a deer charging the hunter. William dodged Richard’s first wild blow, then punched him in the stomach. As the boy doubled over, William hit him several times in rapid succession about the eyes and nose. It was not as exciting as hitting Aliena, but it was gratifying enough, and within moments Richard’s face was covered with blood.
   Suddenly Walter gave a warning cry and sprang to his feet, looking past William’s shoulder. William spun round to see Matthew coming at him with a knife held high ready to stab. William was taken by surprise—he had not expected bravery from the effeminate steward. Walter could not reach him in time to prevent the stroke. All William could do was to hold up both arms to protect himself, and for a terrible moment he thought he was going to be killed in his moment of triumph. A stronger attacker would have knocked William’s arms aside, but Matthew was a slight figure softened by indoor living, and the knife did not quite reach William’s neck. He felt a sudden surge of relief, but he was not yet safe. Matthew lifted his arm for another blow. William took a step back and reached for his sword. Then Walter came around the table with a long pointed dagger in his hand and stabbed Matthew in the back.
   An expression of terror came over Matthew’s face. William saw the point of Walter’s dagger emerge from Matthew’s chest, tearing a slit in his tunic. Matthew’s own knife fell from his hand and bounced on the floorboards. He tried to draw breath in a gasp, but a gurgling noise came from his throat and he seemed unable to breathe. He sagged; blood came from his mouth; his eyes closed; and he fell. Walter withdrew the long dagger as the body sank to the floor. For a moment blood spurted from the wound, but almost immediately the flow slowed to a trickle.
   They all looked at the corpse on the floor: Walter, William, Aliena and Richard. William was light-headed after his close brush with death. He felt as if he could do anything. He reached out and grabbed the neck of Aliena’s tunic. The linen was soft and fine, very expensive. He gave a sharp jerk. The tunic ripped. He kept on pulling, so that it tore all the way down the front. A strip a foot wide came away in his hand. Aliena screamed, then tried to pull the remnants of the garment together over her front. The torn edges would not meet. William’s throat went dry. Her sudden vulnerability was thrilling. It was much more exciting than when he had watched her washing, for now she knew he was looking, and she felt ashamed, and her shame inflamed him all the more. She covered her breasts with one arm and her triangle with the other hand. William dropped the strip of linen and grabbed her by the hair. He jerked her toward him, spun her around, and ripped the rest of the tunic from her back.
   She had delicate white shoulders, a small waist, and surprisingly full hips. He pulled her to him, pressing himself against her back, grinding his hips against her buttocks. He bent his head and bit her soft neck hard, until he tasted blood and she screamed again. He saw Richard move.
   “Hold the boy,” he said to Walter.
   Walter grabbed Richard and put him in an armlock.
   Holding Aliena hard against him with one arm, William explored her body with the other hand. He felt her breasts, weighing and then squeezing them, and he pinched her small nipples; then he ran his hand over her stomach and into the triangle of hair between her legs, bushy and curly like the hair on her head: He prodded her roughly with his fingers. She began to cry. His prick was so stiff he felt it would burst.
   He stepped away from her and jerked her backward over his outstretched leg. She fell on her back with a crash. The fall winded her and she gasped for breath.
   William had not planned this, and he was not quite sure how it had happened, but nothing in the world could stop him now.
   He lifted his tunic and showed her his prick. She looked horrified: she had probably never seen a stiff one. She was a real virgin. All the better.
   “Bring the boy here,” William said to Walter.”! want him to see it all.” For some reason, the thought of doing it in front of Richard’s eyes was intensely piquant.
   Walter pushed Richard forward and forced him to his knees.
   William knelt on the floor and prised Aliena’s legs apart. She began to struggle. He fell on top of her, trying to crush her into submission, but still she resisted, and he could not get inside her. He was irritated: this was spoiling everything. He raised himself on one elbow and hit her across the face with his fist. She cried out and her cheek turned an angry red, but as soon as he tried to enter her, she began to resist him again.
   Walter could have held her still, but he had the boy.
   Suddenly William was inspired. “Cut the boy’s ear off, Walter,” he said.
   Aliena went still. “No!” she said hoarsely. “Leave him alone—don’t hurt him anymore.”
   “Open your legs, then,” William said.
   She stared at him, wide-eyed with horror at the dreadful choice forced upon her. William enjoyed her anguish. Walter, playing the game perfectly, drew his knife and put it to Richard’s right ear. He hesitated, then with a movement that was almost tender, he sliced off the boy’s earlobe.
   Richard screamed. Blood spurted from the small wound. The piece of flesh fell on Aliena’s heaving chest.
   “Stop!” she screamed. “All right. I’ll do it.” She opened her legs.
   William spat on his hand, then rubbed the moisture between her legs. He pushed his fingers inside her. She cried out with pain. That excited him more. He lowered himself on top of her. She lay still, tense. Her eyes were closed. Her body was slick with sweat from the struggle, but she shivered. William adjusted his position, then hesitated, enjoying the anticipation and her dread. He looked at the others. Richard was looking on with horror. Walter was watching greedily.
   William said: “Your turn next, Walter.”
   Aliena groaned in despair.
   Suddenly he shoved inside her roughly, pushing as hard and far as he could. He felt the resistance of her maidenhead—a real virgin!—and he shoved again, brutally. It hurt him but it hurt her more. She screamed. He shoved once more, harder still, and he felt it break. Aliena’s face turned white, her head slumped to one side, and she fell into a faint; then at last William spurted his seed inside her, laughing and laughing with triumph and pleasure until he was drained dry.