Closet Fetishist's Stories


Check Out the
Fart Fetish Podcast

Join Our Community

Click Here for

Click Here for


Moxxi's House of Extremities
Author: Closet Fetishist

Written: January 24th, 2017
1,055 words

In the backroom of Moxxi’s Red Light, Twitch is completely bound to a wooden table with straps across her arms and legs, as well as two more straps across her body at the neck and waist. She’s entirely unable to move but it doesn’t stop her from trying as she attempts to free herself to no avail.

Over the P.A. system, from the windows above, “Well hello, sugar; you’re probably feeling a bit out of place, huh?”

“I’m going to fucking kill you!” Twitch shouts, angrily.

Moxxi laughs, “I don’t think so, hun; in fact, in just a minute you’re not going to be doing much of anything anymore.”

Suddenly, a loud high pressure spray fires up just a few inches from Twitch’s left arm, “What are you doing?” Twitch yells, trying to stay firm as her mind begins to race. She can see the water jet boring through the hardwood table.

“Mmm, wouldn’t you like to know. Oh wait, you will, in just a second...” Moxxi taunts as she throws one of the levers in front of her. As she does, the table holding Twitch down starts to slowly move towards the water stream.

Twitch watches the high pressure spray get closer and closer to the very edge of her shoulder, her eyes wide as she starts to feel the tiny stones in the water ricocheting against her face painfully, “Please no...”

Moxxi grins as she watches closely on a monitor, ensuring she can see the exact moment Twitch’s mind registers the unbearable pain.

Twitch tries to buck and shake but it’s no use as the water beats against the bone in her shoulder while ripping easily through her skin. She screams in horrific agony as the water jet slowly cuts through her flesh and bone, her now partially removed arm spraying blood like a fire hose as the jet moves to finish slicing it all the way. The part of the table under her arm also falls away onto the ground.

Moxxi smiles, “That’s one.”

Twitch is crying in anguish, “Please! No more! I’ll do whatever you want, please! You have to stop this!”

Moxxi turns a wheel inside her viewing booth, it spins the table so Twitch’s legs are now in line with the jet, with less than an inch clearance on her crotch. Moxxi throws another lever and the table starts to move, sideways now, towards the water spray.

“This is inhuman! You can’t do this!” Twitch begs, screaming at the top of her lungs; she does all she can to avoid looking at her missing arm, knowing the trauma of the grotesque sight could end her.

The jet gets close to Twitch’s left leg then stops just inches away as the pebbles pound painfully against it. Then, in a flash, the jet immediately and rapidly cuts through her left leg, removing it with surgical precision at breakneck speed.

Twitch howls as the pain sets in, her leg a gushing geyser of blood; a sharply cut bone stuck in the middle of it, “Help!” Twitch yells, in the off chance someone helpful could hear her.

But no hero would ever come.

The jet is stopped near her crotch as she feels the spray chipping away at her cargo pants and then at her pussy as the tiny stones blast against and inside of it; Twitch shudders in terrible pain.

“Oops, finger slipped on that one,” Moxxi feigns embarrassment, “The next one will be much...much slower,” she grins.

The table starts to move again, at a snails pace, as the jet starts to make contact with Twitch’s right leg, “Please no!” Twitch begs as the spray begins to lacerate her upper thigh; her body shaking and seizing in vain as the water cuts through just as easily, spraying a mix of blood, water, and stone around as it finishes the cut and Twitch’s legs fall to the ground.

Twitch is hyperventilating, her head shaking in terror, her body weakening; she grows unable to maintain consciousness in the face of such pain.

“Last one!” Moxxi says with a cheerful tone over the P.A. system.

“ more,” Twitch weakly sputters out.

“We’ll make it quick, don’t worry; this is getting boring for me too,” she laughs as she turns the table again, this time lining up Twitch’s right arm with the spray. She pulls the lever and Twitch’s table rolls again towards the jet.

Twitch tries to shake but it’s hopeless, her movement is almost involuntary at this point as her mind begins to hallucinate and fade. The jet cuts through, forcing Twitch’s body to jerk wildly before it finally calms again. The slice completes and her final limb falls to the floor.

The high-pressure stream shuts off and a sudden quiet stillness fills the chamber. Moxxi descends the staircase into the room were Twitch is basically lifeless but, still hanging on as her breathing is still rapid, her chest still heaving.

“I’ll give you one thing, you sure have moxie,” Moxxi laughs at the word play, “Most people would have gone into shock and died after the first cut but not you. It’s very impressive,” Moxxi says as she grabs the control button that hangs from the ceiling; she presses the down button, lowering Twitch’s table to floor level. Moxxi approaches and towers over Twitch, shadowing her as she smiles down at the battered and broken Operator. Moxxi snaps her fingers.

From the other side of the room, a thin young man, wearing only a bright pair of hot pants, enters and quickly sits on Twitch’s face before she can even hope to react; her face packed in between the butt cheeks of this puny guy. She moans dejectedly.

“But now you’re not so tough at all, are you?” Moxxi chuckles as the twink rubs his ass into Twitch’s face, humiliating her in her helpless state. She feels her eyes start to roll back, her head becomes light; her breathing is strained before it stops completely, and she finally passes out.

Moxxi dismisses the twink with another snap and stands over Twitch again. She bends down and whispers in Twitch’s unconscious face, “Sleep well now, tomorrow we’re going to have a lot more fun.” She laughs hysterically as she exits, turning off the light to leave what remained of Twitch in total darkness.

© The Fart Closet, All Rights Reserved.