His eyes are rolled into his head. The foam still pumps. Only the spike in the lips of his rectum keep him animated. The rest is spasm. Then the pipe ...witches up, out of the rectum, it steams and stinks of hot brains and slime and faeces. Jonothon flops back to the table, dead. His body still twitches slowly. The brain bug places a piece of toilet paper between the still-quivering butt cheeks, over the open, steaming bumhole and wipes it clean of slime and B.O. and brain. Gently he wipes. “Stand there in the candle light and disrobe.” The command in his voice had its own warning. In a matter of seconds I was totally nude.“Turn around… slowly.” Again, I complied. “You are a clean little bitch, aren’t you?” His voice wasn’t a sneer.. Just a statement of fact. “There are three packages on the bed. Get the middle one. Put the other two on the floor.” I put the first and third boxes (like shirt boxes) on the floor, out of the way and picked up the middle box.“Now sit down at. More

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