by J A Scooter
Peter ignored them and called out, "Bring three of Dingo's guards."
"No!” He appeared to change his mind, adding in tones that were more sinister. "Andrew and I believe that ladies should go before gentlemen. Bring the nurse and the Katoey. I think we'll add the doctor as well."
Peter wasted no time when the three were standing before him. "Well doctor, you pierced nipples and clits and you were preparing Jennifer for a long sea voyage. How many of those bodies in your morgue were the result of your actions?"
The night air resounded with the disdainful hoots of the Gurkha guards as the Doctor dropped to his knees to beg for his life. With a few words, some of the guards handed money to one who appeared to be holding the stake.
"Oh, don't beg and grovel. It's far too late for that,” Peter snarled. "Put them in the second pen! Strip them."
Again, the steel of Kukris flashed in the moonlight and again blood flowed from numerous nicks. The three prisoners stood naked, their bodies covered in a fine sheen of blood.
Andrew was astounded that the beautiful Katoey was a transvestite with male genitals and he fully expected these three to suffer the same ignominious end as Pretty Boy. He was curious when Peter patiently explained that they were going to form a Siamese Knot, reminding the three they would live while they remained motionless.
However, before he continued Peter addressed the transvestite. “I believe you wanted to be as female well now,” his Kukri flashed, “you are.
As the Katoey screamed at the loss of his penis and testicles, Peter grinned most evilly and added, “You must be so happy!”
Next Peter sat the nurse and the Katoey in the mud and then sat the doctor against the nurse, between her legs. Satisfied with their seating positions and deaf to their pleas, he began knotting the three criminals together in a maze of intertwined arms, legs, heads and torsos.
As he completed the knot, he explained. "Doctor, you're in the 'Traitor's Position'. We'll see if you suffer the most."
"You,” Peter explained to the nurse, "are in the Lone Victim's position” as he forced her legs as far apart as possible. Peter called the Katoey the Joined Victim and again patiently explained they would live while they didn't move while all the time ignoring the Katoey’s loss of blood
The doctor tried to ease his aching legs but the chilling screeches of his two fellow prisoners made him relax. For quite some time the three remained motionless.
The Katoey began to sag due to the loss of blood but the screams of the others made him sit still.
Peter, tired of waiting, roared an order and a Gurkha drove some piglets into the pen.
The nurse screamed and thoughtlessly tried to move from the snuffling snouts. Shrieking with pain, the doctor suddenly dropped his head. The noise stopped immediately.
The Siamese Knot tightened. The arms and legs of the three in the knot, fighting for freedom had strangled him . Struggling, the nurse and the Katoey, with their wails of agony cut short, died with him.
Guards poured molasses over the motionless bodies. Two boars, their sows and piglets rushed into the pen to feed.
Emotionless Peter began to stroll back to Dingo. "Strip him. Free him.” Kukris flashed in the moonlight and Dingo was naked. Like Pretty Boy, his body was soon sweating blood from all the nicks where the Gurkhas had sliced his clothes free from his body.
Bleeding profusely, Dingo was looking for any way out. Almost by chance, he noticed his pistol on a post. Too desperate to be wary, it took no more than a quick snatch to regain its possession, and he stood there, grinning, once more in control. He was a strange sight - naked and bloodied yet holding the gun. The grin was momentary.
"You bastard, you've killed my son.” He barked as his eyes narrowed. With drool dripping from the corners of his mouth like some rabid dog, he growled a curse at Peter.
Leveling the gun at his target across the clearing, he lovingly squeezed the trigger.
The gun exploded and Dingo groaned, shaken and staring at the remains of his hand as he fell to the ground. The booby-trap set so long ago in the workshop, had blown his right hand apart.
"Bring the tar.” Peter's reaction was cold blooded.
A guard sprang forward and, to staunch the bleeding, forced Dingo's hand into the boiling tar from the shearing shed.
Dingo's agonized screams echoed from the trees of the nearby forest.
Never before had Andrew witnessed such torment.
He was speechless. He found it impossible to equate this cold, calculating killer with his brother-in-law, who, so passionately loved his sister. Even without asking, Andrew knew that Peter had carefully orchestrated this pantomime with the pistol for Dingo's benefit.
A Gurkha threw a bucket of water over Dingo and dragged him to his feet.
Peter reminded Dingo, "You ordered not only Red, as you called her, but all the girls to be pierced. Now we'll see how you like it."
Two guards held him while one held out his penis with a pair of fencing pliers. Peter took an ear tagging punch, used on the farm to attach a plastic identification tag to either sheep or cattle, and drove one tag through the head of Dingo’s penis.
Dingo’s scream cut through the night air.
Andrew had steeled his nerve so he could help Peter avenge all these atrocities, but the sight of this torture put a quick end to his self-control. As he turned away to throw up yet again, he heard Peter's sardonic comment behind him.
"Hurt did it Dingo? How many girls took this treatment at your orders?"
Dingo was breathless and speechless, doubled up and moaning in agony. The pain was excruciating.
Peter drove another and yet another ear tag into Dingo's penis until he crumpled unconscious to the ground. Snarling, Peter threw another bucket of cold water over him.
"Hurting eh, Dingo? Now for the taxi drivers you had killed. I believe you used a baseball bat and beat the young kids to death. That's all they were - young kids."
Peter nodded and a Gurkha swung a baseball bat into Dingo's knees. The first blow crushed one knee then a second blow crushed the other. No one took any notice of his shrieks of agony or his pleas for mercy.
"By the way, thanks for the money and bullion you donated to the girls' education, those girls you pushed into your brothels. Very kind of you, you piece of vermin.” Peter reached for his Kukri and as it flashed, he bent low to castrate Dingo with one slice.
Andrew's stomach heaved again. It was all too much for him.
However, there was nothing left to bring up. Feeling dizzy, he struggled to keep his balance, and as he clung to the rails of the pen, he remembered the screams of his sister and could only feel satisfied that the crimes against her had earned a just reward. He was amazed that no longer did he want to vomit and the terrible retribution seemed just. In fact, he felt pleased that Peter was judge, jury and executioner.
"Put him in the pigpen.” Peter continued his orders and waited before adding. "Kill him!"
Smiling grimly, the RSM stepped forward, his Kukri glinting. One flash of the blade sent Dingo's head rolling on the ground. As the head rolled free, Dingo's body shivered and shook with blood pumping from the severed neck. It was such a gory sight that even Andrew, accustomed to butchering cattle, sheep, pigs, fowls, ducks, geese and turkeys was compelled to turn away.
Ignoring Andrew's reaction, Peter turned to the remaining prisoners.
"Now what do I do with you?”
They begged, they pleaded and they prayed but Peter ignored their entreaties. "I saw the video clip where you were laughing as you made Jennifer airtight - three, four, five! You even attempted six at a time, eh? You are such heroes!"
"Well Andrew,” he sighed, turning to his brother-in-law. "I believe we now make them watertight, as I've no intention of making them airtight."
He noted Andrew's shocked stance. "Andrew you still seem distressed. Would you like to leave?"
Seeing Andrew's vehement nod of denial, Peter turned back to the prisoners and continu
ed in the same emotionless voice. "You bastards ignored her screams as you all raped my wife. You ignored her blood and her agony so now you pay the piper for that most energetic little jig you danced. Take them.”
A number of Gurkhas sprang to carry out his order.
“Strip them."
Yet again Kukris flashed and like a miracle, the prisoners’ clothes dropped away despite the pleading for mercy. The guards dragged them, the only surviving prisoners, and tied them to the pigpen rails.
Blood dripped from them as Peter grasped plastic ties and sheep rings, used to castrate animals, to loop around each penis and around each set of testicles. Grinning evilly, Peter pulled the ties tight until each of Dingo's bullyboys was groaning at the loss of circulation.
"I believe they're thirsty,” were Peter's words.
Each Gurkha held his prisoner's mouth open while another Gurkha forced water down his throat until his belly bulged. Every remaining prisoner received the same treatment.
"Give them more water. They still seem thirsty.” Peter was still not satisfied.
"Yes, my friends, you raped my wife repeatedly until she completely lost use of her body and even then you continued. You're now watertight. Within the hour, your bladder will explode, and your kidneys will break down. Enjoy hell."
Grimly, he turned away knowing his Gurkha friends would finish the evening for him with all signs of the night's events removed. All human remains would be ground and combined with molasses and alfalfa into Riverina sheep nuts for the stock. In the next week, those same sheep nuts would become fertilizer around the paddocks.
The executioners would destroy the truck, the holding sheds for the prisoners, their clothes and belongings along with the DVDs, laptops and the rags. The concrete foundations for the water recycling plant would cover any further evidence of the evening.
"Come Andrew, we've some entertaining to do at the house. You don't look well. Ah yes, I suppose it's been a shock to you. Remember, I lived amidst scenes like this for the first sixteen or so years of my life.
"No matter what way they died at my hands, nothing, just nothing would ever be payment enough for what they did.
"Come on, smile. Your sister's waiting for us and she looked so beautiful tonight.” He put an arm around Andrew's shoulder. "Brother, forget tonight’s trauma. We both know The Little One has gone, never to return and we can all smile. Now to make certain my own sweet, darling Jennifer is back.
"Apply your sixth sense. How's your twin feeling?"
Staring at Peter, Andrew was still unable to believe that this man, who had been so ruthless a killer only moments before, was so passionate in his love for Sis.
"Know what I feel? Do you really want to know?"
The old teasing Andrew was back. "She wants her husband and is on fire for you. Come on, drive faster, I want to see her."
Diligently they showered to remove the stench of death before dressing and rejoining the others in the formal lounge room.
Jennifer, still dressed in her gown, clung to her mother hiding behind her as if she were a shy little girl. Excited, her heart pounding, she wanted to rush to Peter when she heard his voice as he entered the house, but she was terrified of how he would react to her brief, objectionable, life as a whore.
Standing in the doorway, Peter stretched his arms out towards her and the love in his eyes was like a beacon calling her.
Hesitantly, she left her mother's protection and shyly began to walk towards him. Then she stopped, turned and moved to the old man of the jungle whom she lightly kissed on the cheek.
"Thank you,” she whispered. "I really don't understand how you knew the future. It's beyond me, but your predictions came true, all but one, and I thank God that we have emerged safely with more love between us than ever before."
She began to smile. "Now about that final prophesy! With all my heart, I pray you are just as accurate with that forecast as you were with everything else. When my twin girls arrive you'll be back to stand as their godfather."
Grinning, he stood and hugged her. His only words were, "May happiness come on secret winds and surround you forever in the ways of beauty,” then as she turned to go to Peter, he added, "May the warm winds of Heaven blow softly upon your home and your God bless all who enter there."
Jennifer slowly drifted to Peter's arms, her ears still filled with the never-ending chant from the shearing shed. As it thundered in her brain, she could no longer remember the hours of misery and degradation.
Tentatively she approached her husband, only able to feel the overpowering love exploding within her. It seemed to be wrapping her in a warm cocoon of security and care.
Peter waited patiently, his arms open ready to receive his love. "I have ten thousand kisses for my wife, so come and collect the payment. Where's the champagne? We have to celebrate."
Taking Jennifer's left hand in his, he slipped her wedding and engagement rings onto her finger.
Clinging tightly to him, she began to cry.
Peter's finger tilted her face to his and he drowned in the sparkling green depths of her eyes as his lips slowly lowered to hers and he rejoiced in her sweetness. His hands lightly danced across her bare back and lovingly he enjoyed the sensations of her skin answering his call.
Her arms tightened around his neck and quietly her hands began to move into his hair to pull him even closer to her. It was obvious she wasn't going to let him escape. Her body was telling him she was his forever and would never stop loving him.
"Dad, do something he's eating her!” called Andrew in his old teasing manner. "God how mushy! Sis kick him. Don't let him do that to you. Mum, you do something before it's too late. You know these Sydney blokes are likely to do anything."
As he teased his sister, Andrew was amazed that the events of the night at the piggery were fading into a misty memory and he was finding it harder and harder to recall the details.
"Sis, no lady throws herself at a Sydney ruffian. It gives him ideas. God I can't stand this.” He rose and began walking towards the lovers locked in each other's arms and kissing so deeply they heard nothing. With each step he took, his mind seemed to clear of all the horrors of the night and he felt as though he was pressing against a barrier. He was one with Jennifer and his heart overflowed with love for his sister and this man. Knowing what she was feeling cleansed his memories.
He noticed his parents were standing motionless with their arms around each other, his mother's head on his father's chest and his head resting on her hair. The smiles on their faces told of their delight at seeing their daughter in the arms of her husband.
They had no intention of asking Peter or Andrew how they had spent their evening. It was enough to know that their daughter and her husband were together again.
It was a long time before Jennifer and Peter surfaced from their kisses to get their breath and to allow their beating hearts to return to normal when, grinning, Peter whispered in Jennifer's ear, "By the way I have a promissory note signed by you. Is it still valid?”
Peter produced the note she had left that fateful Monday morning. Ignoring the presence of Jennifer's family, he opened it and slowly read,
'Peter my love. You looked after me when I was drunk.
Now we're even. I love you more and more each day.
'Tonight, just for you,
I will dress in these clothes that I wore last night and you can...'
Jennifer hugged him, as shyly she replied, "Yes, every day for the rest of our lives."
- The End -
Next in the series
“Now I have Everything”
About the Authors
JA Scooter is the pen name of two Author’s of Without You I Have Nothing.
It began with a draft of a few pages of writing and with combined input grew into what we hope will be an enjoyable, intense, romantic journey for our readers.
A Scooter was an Air Force school teacher in Malaysia in the 60’s. In this drama filled love story A Scoo
ter relates a lot experiences in dealing with the Australian Air Force and Gurkhas. A Scooter is well travelled throughout Asia and has developed a unique bond with the various nationalities and cultures.
J Scooter is the co-author and her invaluable research, ideas and experience of life gives excitement to the characters.
Without You I Have Nothing gave JA Scooter the opportunity to enlighten readers of the various cultures while bringing the multi-cultural aspect of living in Australia.
To contact the Author please forward emails to [email protected]