Cleaning up the Trash by Daryl Smith Chapter one to "My Nightmare in the Jungle" by Daryl Smith - Available on Amazon.com A young woman takes the law into her own hands to stop a murderous serial rapist gain terrorizing Eastern New England in 1973. Her eyes slowly began to open. It was hard to stay awake, sleep felt so good, so easy. "What happened? Where am I?" she thought. After what seemed like awhile, she could finally focus. Her arms were fastened together in front of her. She lay on what felt like a very uncomfortable mattress, like one stuffed with straw. There was a foul stench in the air, it smelled of feces and mud. It reminded her of a county fair. Metallic looking bars, like a jail cell, were several feet in front of her. Turning her head, she saw they were all around her. Above was what looked like a steel plated ceiling. There was a door with a lock that was basically part of the cage. It appeared that she was here. This is what the other women had described. The cage appeared to be in a wood room, with another door, all painted red. "I could be in a barn," she thought. She looked down at her body. Her clothes had been removed. All of her beauty was available for anyone to see. She laid back to rest and ponder. "This was it." she thought. Weeks of making herself available had paid off. She looked at her arms, they were heavily taped together with duct tape. Her skin itched under the tape. Her legs were similarly heavily taped. That she could get out of, she was sure of that. But the rest, she wasn't sure of. Doubt and fear threatened to fill her mind. Could she really pull this off, could she fight her way out of here? Her heart beat faster, her rate of breathing increased. As she became more alert, she calmed herself. "You can do this," she repeated to herself. "You can do this." She had some reason for doubt. She had trained and taught for years. She fought countless simulations. But she never actually had to take a man out for real, much less more than one. She could do this she thought. Marcie had fought off her attacker, the police had caught him right where she had left him. Charlene had put one of these types of guys out of commission permanently. It wasn't even that hard she confided. But this may not be one man, it may be several. "You can do this baby," she said to herself. She shuffled and struggled to sit more upright. She listened for sounds of movement. She could faintly hear what she thought was the occasional voice, far off. She formulated a plan, and went over it many times in her head, attempting to consider different contingencies, her confidence growing as she thought. Finally, it was time to act. Justice was coming today she determined and she was going to deal it out. Struggling, she got to her feet. She rolled her arms back and forth to move them in position to free herself, her skin being stretched and pulled by the tape. When she finally had her arms positioned as she wanted, she quickly and powerfully pulled her arms back, against her abdomen and across her hips. The tape fairly easily ripped from bottom to top, freeing her arms. Then she quickly squatted, snapping her ankle tape. That was the easy part. Now came the hard part. She needed every advantage, especially the advantage of surprise. If all went well she could take out two men before they knew what hit them. Hopefully just one would come. She was very confident she could handle just one man if she had surprise on him. She left on the duct tape that was still attached to the side of her arms, this could give her surprise. Not having clothes was a definite advantage now. She knew the effect her curvaceous body could have on men. If they were distracted, if their blood was in their penis's, they would have less for their brain and the rest of there bodies. This would be an initial advantage in combat. If she could just injury one of them badly, break something, and there was a lot she could break, that might change the calculus. They'd have to get medical attention. Questions might be asked, questions that would bring the authorities in. She wanted more than that though, she wanted to tear these guys apart, herself. It was time to move, and play the victim. "He-e-elp", she yelled with a terrified sound in her voice. "Help me-e-e!" She screamed again and again. Pausing every few seconds, not wanting to work herself up too much. Finally, after several minutes and between screams, she heard footsteps coming. She stopped screaming momentarily. The wooded door to the room she was in opened. Her heart raced in anticipation to see who would arrive. She placed her arms together firmly and held them close to her body, as if they were still taped firmly, the torn portion of the tape being hidden against her body. Men started walking through the door. The first wore a black ski mask with red trim around the eyes, nose, and mouth. He wore a Black Sabbath t-shirt, socks and shoes, but had no pants on. He looked to be about her height, five foot ten inches. Decent build, not overly muscular. The others filled in, dressed the same, with different kinds of shirts on, four in all. Three of them decent to good builds, the last one rather skinny. She would do him last. Their dress encouraged her. Testicles, her primary target, were easily accessible. This was them, the men that were terrorizing the coast, right in front of her, dressed exactly how they were reported to have. This is what she came for. "Who aaaare you!" she screamed. "Let me goooo!" she yelled. The men's dicks had all risen in salute at the sight of her, and she was a sight to behold. Long blond hair, beautiful blue eyes, cute round cheeks, a long thin nose. Large breasts that jutted out majestically from her body. Firm looking developed but womanly biceps and forearms. Wide hips with a narrow waist. Muscular, sexy legs. A woman terrified, a woman all theirs, her gorgeous body to be taken at their pleasure, again, and again, until she ceased to be pleasurable, and then discarded. The men stood just looking at her. "What do you want from me!" she screamed. When they provided no reaction, she screamed it again. The men meanwhile enjoyed her screams, reveling in their power over her. Listening to her brought them to the edge of orgasm. After a minute, two of them came towards the door to her prison. One carried a large roll of duct tape, the other held a key in his hand. She stopped screaming for a moment as they entered. The first two came in followed by the other two. She continued being silent and just watched, keeping a terrified look on her face. When she had taught self-defense, which she did for dozens of girls, she always taught them to go for the testicles. This was the finishing move. Other moves could be executed but this was the finishing one. This was the one move that secretly turned her on. She loved the idea of taking a man, a proud creature who tried to control, rule, dominate, and subjugate her, and turn him, as much as she was able, into a woman. To take the source of his pride, his symbol of manhood and domination, and ruin and eradicate it. This would not be done to good men, men see liked, respected, even longed for. This would be done to bad men, degenerates. Destroying the testicles in a rape was justifiable. The man was losing the source of his abuse. It was the ultimate justice. Society was served, by ending a threat to it. It was just down right mean. Every girl she had taught, she trained to destroy the testicles in an attack. It was her most consistent principal. 'If you abuse em, you lose em.' The man with the key handed it back to the skinnier one, who proceeded to lock the door. When she saw the door was locked she shouted "Noooo!" and acted frantic, shaking her head violently, but acting as if her arms were still taped. She finally dropped to one knee and put her head down pretending to sob, doing the best acting job she had ever done in her life, as real tears came from the corner of her eyes. Two of the men moved forward and each grabbed a shoulder and below her elbow. They had not noticed that her arms were free. The each stood right on top of her not more than a few inches away. As part of her training she had spent much time weight lifting. She found she enjoyed it, and the power she developed. She only lifted heavy, never to build bulk. She worked on her grip strength. She could bend nails, crush apples, rip phone books, she had even once bent a craftsmen wrench all with her hands, and had flipped over a 300-pound tractor tire. Her hands were strong for man. She quickly separated her arms and reached up to each man's testicles. They did not even fully realize what she was doing until she had secured a good hold of each man's scrotum. She locked her thumb and fore finger tightly around each man's sack, pulled down slightly to bring their balls away from their body. Then she made her tightest fist around each man's balls, at the same time pulling down with all her womanly might and rising to her feet. The men immediately both screamed a high-pitched wail. Their testicles, with no room to escape the tremendous crushing pressure she exerted on them, collapsed nearly instantly, their tough outer shells rupturing, and the soft inner tubular structure being pushed out and crushed as she ground her fingers together, within seconds reducing the testicles to a useless and unsalvageable mass of crushed tissue. She felt the firm structure of the orbs collapse and become nothing but soft mush in her hands. The men immediately fell to the ground uttering only high pitch wails and pitching and rolling like one having a seizure. She immediately knew she had incapacitated the first two. She quickly fixed her gaze on the remaining two men. Both were in a state of utter shock and horror, and had a pale look about them as if they were going to faint. Both seemed utterly terrified. She wasted no time and moved towards the larger of the two remaining men. He started to move back slightly but seemed too petrified to do anything else. In one quick motion, she shot her hand out to grab his balls. Hours of practicing grabbing the sock and golf balls paid off as she snatched his sack tightly. Snapping out of his fear he started to try to resist by grabbing her arms, but to no avail as she quickly cupped his testicles and began exerting her crushing force on them. She found it a little more difficult to crush the third man's testicles as her grip wasn't as tight and the testicles found some wiggle room. The man screamed in pain but was reduced high pitch wails and unconscious once she eliminated the testicles wiggle room and immediately reduced them to pulp, as she had the two others before them. As he collapsed, she immediately turned her gaze to the fourth man as the third man slumped unconscious at her feet. He was a skinnier man, two inches shorter and probably 15 pounds lighter than she. She took a step towards him and he screamed "No!" and backed up, slamming himself right into the walls of the cell. He put his arms out with his hands open and yelled "No, please!" He was completed petrified and she hesitated for a moment. "I surrender, Pleeeeease!" he shouted. She now had every confidence she could destroy this man. She could take his balls anytime she wanted to. She had, though, always taught her students to run away if and when they could, and that you did not continue to do damage and maim if it was unnecessary. Her expectation though was that a man would continue to fight and be a threat until the testicles were destroyed, not before. She quickly formulated a course of action. "Turn around!" she shouted threateningly, her normally melodious voice now thundering. "Now!" she shouted as the man wasn't moving as fast as she wished. The man immediately complied, turned his back to her and began to shake. "Hands on the bars and spread your legs!" she roared. The man immediately compiled. She wanted to make sure she had the complete upper hand if this guy was to surrender. "Give me the key!" she yelled with a little less ferocity. The man immediately reached his hand back while still facing away and gave her the key. "Hands on the bars and spread your legs!" she yelled again. She came up right behind him, her pussy right against his butt. She reached around him and grasped his testicles with her right hand, causing him to gasp and moan. She secured her grip the way she had on the first two, pulling the balls down and slightly squeezing them. "Shut up!" she yelled as the man began to make a sound. "I don't want to hear from you. You want to keep your balls you'll do exactly what I say." "Ok," he whimpered. "Where are my clothes?" she asked firmly. "O-o-outside t-the door there," he whimpered, "to the left on the ground." "Where am I?" "On a farm," he replied. "Where!" she shouted. "W-west of Johnston, right off highway 6," he answered. "Ok, where's the nearest phone." "In the house," he replied. "Ok anybody else here?" "No, just us. Were alone," he replied. As she thought for a moment, she began to feel uncomfortable. It would be hard to move with this guy and keep her grip on his balls. "He could get loose and then I'd have a fight on my hands and I've lost the surprise," she thought. She wasn't sure she believed there was no one here. She knew where Johnston was, it was a couple miles east of Providence. The more she considered her predicament, the more she thought there was just one logical solution. "Let's go to the door," she said. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Lady!" "Yeah right," she answered, "It's too late for that asshole." She took the key and opened the lock and pushed the door open. That was it, that was all she needed. Now what to do about the asshole. She thought about his testicles, how soft and delicate they were, how she totally had him in her power. She thought about what these monsters had done to her old teacher Mrs. Allen. How they had brutalized her. She had delivered justice today, almost. She made a snap decision. Her elegant but powerful hand compressed tightly around the testicles. The hand which had so gently and tenderly care for her infants in the nursery, on the nails of which she loved to paint pretty colors, now quickly and easily reduced a fourth set of testicles to pulp. The skinny man let out a loud scream and immediately collapsed, and lay on the ground making a choking like sound. She quickly gazed at each of the men. Two were completely still. Only one besides the skinny one was still moving. She walked out the door, turned and found her clothes as described. She immediately began to second guess if it were necessary to do what she did to the skinny one. She hadn't even thought of this but she could have just locked him in the cage. "But maybe they had another key and could get out," she thought, as she finished putting on her clothes. "He brought it on himself. This never would have happened if he hadn't been doing what he did. 'You abuse em, you lose em,' that's what we always said," she reminded herself. She walked out of the barn and cautiously up to the house. The emotion of the ordeal began to overcome her, and she began to cry as she approached the house. It seemed deserted. She heard a car off in the distance. The door was open so she called in, when no one answered she went in and found the phone, called the police, and still crying walked to the highway and waited for them to arrive. Deception as much as anything had allowed this encounter to end so easily. She would have to employ some additional deception with the police, as she did want it to be known this was her plan all along. Two men, Louis Wilson and Caleb Turner, the skinny one, died of shock because of their injuries. The other two got life for multiple counts of assault, rape, and murder. She was never charged for the incident and was generally regarded as a hero, though her name was never published in what came to be known as the Johnston incident.