DIY Torture Chamber

This is my entry in the Halloween story contest, so please vote at the end of the story. As an incentive, I've included my personal recipe for fake blood!

"Oh FUCK, my sweet little Amy, what happened to your arm?!!" Josh screamed, as he picked up his girlfriend and prepared to rush her to the ER.

Amy was laughing so hard she couldn't speak. Her best friend Kat cackled, "Josh! JOSH! It's not real! It's fake!"

Josh just looked confused and set Amy on her feet. She and Kat had just returned to his acreage in the country from a shopping trip in Kansas City. He examined what looked like a four-inch long, third-degree burn mark on her arm, with coagulating blood still drying around the edges.

Kat's husband Marcus, who'd also been consumed with laughter, came to look at Amy's "wound." Amy poked at it and said, "See? Doesn't hurt at all. Oh, but we found the sickest shit!"

Kat began to take items out of the bag she was holding and place them on the dining room table. "Remember, we told Carl that we would help him with makeup and fake blood for the Cyclone Halloween Party? Well, we found a little old costume rental shop in Kansas City where they sell all kinds of theatrical makeup and all these special effects products."

Cyclone was a friendly little BDSM venue just outside Kansas City where, one night a month, you could wear an indecent costume, flog the hell out of someone in the playroom, and then have a nice relaxing drink with friends in the lounge. Kat and Marcus had met there five years ago, and they had introduced Amy to Josh (and the lifestyle) earlier in the year.

"Like this one," Amy said, picking up a bottle that looked like a liquid foundation. "It's called 3-D Gel, and that's part of what Paul, the guy at the shop, used on my arm. It's real thick and sticky, but when you warm it, it becomes liquid."

Kat added, "It's a liquid latex product. When you put it on skin, it dries slowly as it cools, so you can work it into any shape you want, like to make realistic wounds and holes on bodies. See where Amy's looks like the edges of the burn?" she pointed out.

Kat had been a makeup maven since she and Amy were in high school. She had a large fishing tackle box to hold all her products. Carl, Cyclone's manager, had seen her handiwork with some of their monthly themed costumes, and asked her to share her expertise.

"It's not the right color for my skin," observed Marcus, the olive-toned Greek god.

"But that's part of the beauty of it!" Kat exclaimed. "When it's dry you can put any color makeup over it. See where the burn on Amy's arm looks red, and than changes into brown? That's just basic cream makeup. Then you can add one of lots of different blood products to it, too."

"Yeah," Amy piped up. "They even have these wheels of different colors of makeup for specific effects. Like, this one is called the Burn Wheel, and there's another that's the Bruise Wheel. They even have a Zombie Wheel," she added, picking up and showing the wheel-shaped collection of putrid colors.

Josh's color was a little grey. "Eww! Those colors are gross. I'm almost afraid to ask, but how do you make somebody into a zombie?"

"I'll show you," Kat promised as she took the bottle to the kitchen. "You're not supposed to put it in the microwave. Usually, you let the bottle heat in hot water. But I'll just do a few seconds."

She took the bottle out of the microwave and held its heat against Josh's skin. "See? Of course, you can't put it on the skin if it's too hot, or you'll get a real burn. Here, Marcus, give me your arm."

He dutifully held it out to her, and she rubbed a small amount of the sticky liquid onto his skin. "Now as it dries, you can shape it into anything from warts to cuts, but you also can kinda pick at it so that it looks like the skin is rotting and falling off. Then you just add a little of this color, and there it is. Zombie skin."

Marcus was sincerely impressed. "Now I want to be a zombie for Halloween," he grinned.

"As long as your zombie dresses in your gold speedo and Mistress Katya's collar, like you do every month," Amy chuckled.

"Anyway," Kat said to get them back on track. "Carl is calling the party 'The Cyclone Torture Chamber,' and he offered people or groups a chance to reserve space to stage a 'scene' that incorporates BDSM gear, but is bloody, freaky, or scary. It is, after all, a Halloween party," she smiled. "So I promised to help with blood."

Josh looked horrified. "You're donating your blood?"

"No Josh," Amy laughed, "we're gonna make fake blood. Paul gave us a recipe.*" She showed him several small bottles filled with blood-colored liquid, and went on, "You can buy all different kinds in these little bottles, even one with a mint taste that you can use in your mouth. But they're expensive, so it's easier to make your own if you need lots of blood."

"Do you need lots of blood?" Josh asked quietly, still not sure.

"Yes, because I told Carl I would offer the fake blood to anybody who needed it for a scene," Kat explained. "And lots of people will need it for lots of different kinds of scenes. So we're making it by the gallon."

"You're making blood in my clean kitchen?" Josh griped.

"Yes, sweetie," Amy told him, "but this recipe has soap in it, so it's supposed to wash right out. We might need one of your ratty old white socks to test it on," she teased, sticking out her tongue.

Josh looked a little grey again, with all of the talk of dead skin and blood. He stammered, "I think I'll just take the dogs outside," as he ran out the back door.

%%%%%%

The Saturday night before Halloween, the group gathered at Josh's house to set off together for the party. Kat had done an amazing job on Marcus's zombie skin, but he couldn't put clothes over it, so he was wrapped in a sheet against the late October cold.

"That is so cool!" Amy fussed over his grey rotting skin. "Kat, now when you flog him, you can actually flay the skin off his body."

Josh looked sick again, then muttered, "Be right back," and ran upstairs. He returned with an oversized long "duster" style coat that he sometimes wore this time of year when working outside.

"This should work," he said, holding it out for Marcus. While Marcus had the body of a weightlifter, Josh was taller and well-built himself. "This should be loose enough not to tear off your...um...skin, and long enough to cover your legs."

"Thanks, bud," Marcus said, as Kat helped him into the coat. "But where's your leather jacket?"

Amy had talked Josh into dressing as a leatherman, complete with leather assless chaps, a vest that exposed his muscled hairy chest, and a leather brimmed cap.

"Yeah, I guess I would be a little cold," Josh admitted, then squealed, "OOOOH!" as Amy's tiny hand slapped each perfectly-rounded cheek lovingly.

"And Kat," Amy snickered, "a Kat-suit. How different!"

As a classic dominatrix, Kat wore a different skin-tight leather or PVC catsuit to most of the parties. Tonight's was sparkling red, paired with glittery red platform boots and unzipped far enough to emphasize her humongous mahungas.

"Hey, I embellished it a little," she faux-pouted, as she showed the devil's tail with the pointy end and the glittery red horns mounted on a headband. "I didn't want to wear anything that would get in the way. And you're still not telling what you're gonna wear?"

"Fuck no!" Amy laughed. She was currently dressed in just a sweater, jeans, and sneakers, and was carrying her old Central High School gym bag. "You'll just have to wait and see."

%%%%%%

They arrived a couple hours early, and the exhibitionists--no, exhibitors--were just starting to set up. They watched briefly as people carried all sorts of paraphernalia into the playroom. The lights were not dimmed yet, but the room was decorated with orange and purple lights and glow-in-the-dark skeletons, punctuated with a few severed heads hanging from the high ceiling.

What became Club Cyclone each month was a nondescript rental building, owned by a charitable society and rented for this purpose only once a month. It had a well-lit lobby that continued as a hallway down to a small kitchen.

On the right was the large playroom, filled with equipment like St. Andrew's crosses, spanking benches, and sturdy suspension structures that were available for anyone to use. (Of course, the equipment did not live at the building--the venue was also rented for things like wedding receptions!)

On the left side was a nice-sized lounge with a bar and cushy-comfy couches and chairs for seating. The group popped in to say "hi" to Chloe, the bartender.

Chloe's costume was a radical change from her usual appearance. A willowy Black woman with close-cropped hair, she had found a giant Afro wig and a paisley polyester jumpsuit, complemented by small round purple-glass shades and platform shoes, for a seriously Foxy Brown look.

"Woo-hoo!" Josh exclaimed.

"Hi, y'all," Chloe called from behind the bar. "Come try these shots." She was making blood-colored shots as the featured cocktail, and had simply mixed vodka with grenadine.

"Hmm..." Kat began. "They're a little too vivid red. Here, try a little black cherry Kool-Aid to give them that perfect blood color. Might need to add something a little sweet, though," she finished, handing Chloe the packets of powder.

"Well, there are my helpers," Carl said as he walked into the lounge. He hugged Amy and Kat and shook hands with the men.

Carl was a bit of an enigma. He was a middle-aged, vanilla-looking man who drove a van to pick up worshippers for his church on Sunday mornings after spending Saturday evening in "Kink World." He was appropriately dressed as Ted Lasso.

"What's this, Amy? No costume?" he asked.

She just grinned and said, "I'm just off to change now," as she slipped out of the room.

"I know Kat is gonna set up blood all over my kitchen," Carl nodded to her as she left to start bringing in gallon jugs. "How 'bout you boys help me in here?"

Marcus and Josh joined him in putting heavy plastic tablecloths over the luscious smooth cranberry-colored upholstery on the cushy-comfy couches and chairs. "Don't wanna get blood or makeup on them," he stated. "They're a lot harder to clean than the carpet. And it gives the place that good old abandoned house look."

His phone jingled with some familiar hymn and he stopped to answer. "Oh, hi Greg! Sure, Kat has lots of blood. You want the vein, artery, coagulated, or minty-in-your-mouth kind?"

Kat was busily unloading the gallons of blood and preparing to funnel them into small bottles to use at each exhibit. She had also brought the raw ingredients* in case she had to make more, as well as the smaller bottles of specific types of blood. She had promised to make cuts and wounds on anyone needing them.

She had a special surprise for the other floggers, as well as whippers and cutters. The biggest find she and Amy had discovered at the costume shop in KC was a powder that could be brushed onto "victims" that was only slightly pinkish on skin (not enough to be noticed in dim lighting.) It would then turn to "blood" when touched with something wet, so that knife players could "cut" into people with (wet) fake knives and make them bleed.

Or if someone wanted to flog their partner and make them bleed, they could dust the powder on their back, then have an inconspicuous tray of water into which they could dip just the tips of the flogger before each stroke, and each stroke would make more blood show up on the poor slave's back.

Paul, the guy at the counter in the theatrical supply store, had told them that many churches used the product for their Good Friday/Easter Passion Plays, to make the whipping of Jesus more realistic.

She was just finishing filling the small bottles when Amy popped in and said, "Ta-da!"

It wasn't often Amy could surprise Kat, but Kat was speechless. When she found her voice she said, "That's pretty exposed, even for you."

"Ain't it great?" Amy beamed. "Bernie the Rope Master did it for me." Amy's kink was exhibitionism. Her monthly costumes kept pushing the envelope of how much skin she could get away with showing.

Kat was still shaking her head in surprise as she took Amy's hand and pulled her out of the kitchen. "Let's go show the guys."

Josh was so stunned he had to sit down on the cushy-comfy couch he was covering. Marcus wasn't sure he should even look. Carl decided he shouldn't.

Everyone knew that Bernie was the most talented rope rigger in the place. His handiwork was exquisite. And under it was nothing but Amy's 5 foot tall lean muscular frame.

Kat was still shaking her head. Carl had run off to his office. Marcus was looking at her gingerly. Josh finally broke out of his trance and breathed, "My sweet little Amy, that is.......... incredible." He pulled her closer and began to run his hands over her rope covered body.

Bernie had created a bodysuit of purple rope that was twisted and tied into a spider web of artistic knots from her neck to right between her legs. The net-like design left an infinite number of spaces between the ropes, spaces filled with nothing but Amy. Kat noticed that she was slightly dancing back and forth, from foot to foot.

"Ahh, he gave you a 'Happy Knot,'" her best friend smirked, noticing the rope that ran tightly between the lips of her pussy.

Josh was brushing his hands over her little grapefruits, his thumb caressing the exposed nipples. She gave a little gasp and he just smiled.

She whispered to him, "Yeah, before the night is over, I'm sure you'll have to take me back to the dark after-care area and fuck me."

His smile widened.

%%%%%%

Kat had a box full of little bottles of blood to distribute to anyone who needed it. She also had some scary makeup, and the bottle of 3-D gel floating is a big coffee mug of hot water. The other three decided to accompany her as she made her rounds to the various exhibits, checking on their needs.

Just inside the door was the needle-play area where their friend Anthony plied his craft. It appeared that things had been set up, but Anthony was nowhere to be seen. They decided to check in with him later.

There was a wonderful display of a coven of robed and hooded warlocks sacrificing a virgin. They had a backdrop painted like a ceremonial medieval dungeon, and very impressive looking robes. They had real-looking ancient wall sconces with fake fire coming up from the electric lights. Josh wondered briefly if they actually did this ritual regularly.

Amy was particularly impressed with their "sacrificial altar," which was a regular massage table with an extraordinary cloth laid over it, embroidered with the same runes as the warlocks' robes. Their virgin would be restrained at the four points of the table by each wrist and each thigh. Josh was becoming convinced that they really did do this once a month at a Masonic hall or a church basement or an accounting office.

They would need the "bleeding powder," because they planned to carve their runes on their victim's body. Their virgin was a cute little strawberry blonde whom Kat happened to know, and knew was certainly NOT a virgin.

They also needed some of the fresh blood to be put on the woman's crotch and spotted on the table below, to prove she had been a virgin. They decided to slide her forward, like on a gynecologist's table and secure her with wide straps by each thigh so that her legs would be spread wide open and hanging down bent at the knee, with her ankles chained to the feet of the table at the bottom.

Each monk would get a turn to pretend fuck her, and they shunned the inconvenience of climbing up on the table. Since they would use a dildo on a stick hidden in each monk's robe for his turn, they wanted fresh blood to add for each monk.

There was a Dr. Frankenstein, but it was a woman, with a female creature. She had a backdrop painted to approximate the doctor's lab, and a slab where her naked creature would be restrained. She planned to use a violet wand for electricity to bring her creature to life. The doctor asked if Kat had time to make some raised flesh for the stitches around the creature's neck. They then realized that if she had fake raised flesh, it could actually be sewed through. Kat directed her to Anthony the Needle Guy, who she knew would have a large needle and coarse thread.

Josh's eyes popped a little at one attractive woman restraining another. Stupid, juvenile girl-on-girl fetish, Amy thought with a laugh. Maybe someday I should have Kat restrain me, but then he'd probably cum in his jeans. Amy jerked his hand and they moved on.

The most complicated set-up fascinated them all, and would need a fair amount of drippable blood. This was a man, with another man suspended by his feet (using suspension boots and the dome-shaped metal suspension frame) hanging with his head about a foot above the floor, where they had a somewhat battered old copper bowl, into which the victim's blood would be dripping from his slit throat. The torturer asked Kat for help with faking the slit.

The suspended victim would then have in his hands (tied behind him), a little bulb-type squirter attached to a pale but opaque hose that would run down the back of his body and end just by the edge of the slit on his throat. The bulb would be filled with blood so that the victim could control the drip. The torturer also asked for Kat's help making a sticky blood without soap that he could paint around the rim of the bowl to appear to be drinking the blood from it. They were practicing with lightly colored water to make sure they were getting it right.

One man was a Victorian vampire with a fabulous black cloak lined in red satin. He had amazingly real looking fangs and was biting his victim's neck and sucking her blood, so he needed the minty-in-your-mouth blood, and maybe even blood capsules he could bite in his mouth to make more blood drip from the victim. Nice look, Marcus thought. I love the traditional long frilly white nightgown.

Their set included a small bed for the sleeping victim and a real working curtained window the vampire could climb through to suck some more at timed intervals. As a last thought, he asked Kat if she could make the classic fang marks on the victim's neck.

There was a woman in full dominatrix dress with a man in the stereotyped "gimp" outfit, with his bare torso and full-head leather hood, who was chained to the St. Andrew's Cross. She wanted the bleeding powder for bloody flogging and slitting him from throat to crotch, and maybe some drippable blood just for emphasis. She and Kat debated briefly if they should use the 3-D gel to make old welts on his back, or whether his domme should give him real welts before the party started.

Someone was even using Amy's fun-size cross. (Josh had been obsessed with her from the moment he saw her, and had built a 2/3 scale of the big wooden X just perfect for her tiny body.)

The man was dressed as Van Helsing, and had a small woman vampire strapped to the cross in a beautiful bright red velvet Gothic gown. Her scene partner wanted dripping blood to come out of her around the stake he was pounding into her heart. Well, specifically, the deep cleavage between her ample tits. They were all pleased that her dress was just light enough in color to show the blood. She also had real-looking fangs, and wanted minty mouth blood to put on them.

They finally found their friend Anthony the Needle Guy coming in, leading a person under a sheet. "Hey, Anthony, whatcha got there?" Amy asked.

"Sure you want to see?" he asked, teasing.

"Ah, what the fuck. Let us see," Kat yelled.

Anthony got one of his set-up crew to help him carefully lift the sheet.