Tyra walked into her room with a grin on her face. She couldn't believe how surprised Jim had been when she said she wanted to be dismembered. She was so excited by the process. She would be a real pillow girl. Well, at least for an evening.

Looking around the room, she saw a low table with a pair of sturdy tin snips. Soon, those would be placed around her fingers, cutting through skin, muscle, and bone before severing the digit completely. There was also a huge bolt cutter. That was probably for her thumbs and toes. She couldn't imagine the tin snips cutting through the bigger bones.

There was a chair with arm and leg restraints. That was probably a good idea. No matter how willing she was, she'd probably be thrashing when the pain got really intense. The restraints would prevent her from kicking or pulling away. She wouldn't want anyone else to be hurt.

Sitting in the chair, facing away from the door, the 10-year-old started fastening the restraints around her legs. As she finished the binding, she heard the door open. Strapped in as she was, she couldn't turn to see the person who'd remove her hands and feet, but the click of the person's high heels indicated that it was a woman.

As the woman came into view, Tyra was amazed to see it was her own mother.

"Hello, baby," Leanne said, brushing the 10-year-old's hair from her eyes.

"What are you doing, here, mommy?"

"Well, baby," the woman said, "I played a very large role in getting us into this. I figured I should play an equally large role in taking us out of this."

"You're going to cut off my hands and feet?"

"Yes. And tomorrow, I'll remove your arms and legs. I'm the only one who'll hurt you from now on, baby."

"Oh, mommy," the little girl said, tears forming in her eyes, "I'm so happy. Thank you."

Leanne wasn't so sure of this. When she got back and saw that they hadn't started yet, she volunteered. Sure, she was the one to bring up the subject. Sure, she was the one that bullied Jim into allowing it. It was, though, more than she'd ever imagined. To think; she'd dismember her own child and then kill her. It was insane.

***

Picking up the tin snips, Leanne turned to her daughter.

"Before we begin, I have to ask one last time. Is this truly what you want? It'll be horribly painful. If you pass out, I'll need to revive you before continuing. It'll also be a slow process. I'll use these tin snips to remove your fingers. I'll wait one minute between each finger. This means that it'll take at least ten minutes just for your fingers."

Tyra thought about what her mother said. It was a fair question. Did she really want her mother to do this? She'd still have all day tomorrow and she wouldn't be able to do anything for herself. Well, it would be interesting. The pain, also, was something that made this procedure attractive. She had her answer.

"Yes, Mommy."

"I need you to tell me exactly what you want me to do, sweetheart. I want this to be completely clear."

Tyra took a moment to compose herself. This was intense.

"Please, Mommy," the 10-year-old said. "Please cut off my fingers and toes. Please wait one minute between each one to allow me to enjoy the pain."

"And when I'm done with the fingers and toes," Leanne said. "I'll remove your hands and feet. Is this what you truly want?"

"Yes, Mommy. I want you to cut off my hands and feet when you're done with my fingers and toes."

Leanne looked at the table and noticed that something was missing. The tin snips and bolt cutters would do for the child's fingers and toes, but not for the wrists or ankles. Also, how would she control the bleeding. She also needed something to revive the little girl should she pass out.

"Mommy has to step outside for a few things," she said to Tyra. "I'll be right back."

Leaving the room, she left her daughter to contemplate her situation.

***

Tyra was thrilled. This was so much better than what she'd anticipated. She'd thought some smelly old man would use a butcher knife or axe to cut her up. Seeing that it would be her mom put the enjoyment of the situation on a completely different level.

She looked at the table to see if she could tell what her mom needed. It took her a few moments, but she came to the same realization. They were going to need something bigger than bolt cutters if they were going to cut off her hands and feet. She also wondered how her mommy would wake her up if she passed out.

Maybe her mom would hit her. Maybe she could even talk her mom into breaking each finger before cutting it off. She'd often thought of her mom torturing her, but was afraid to bring it up. With less than three days to live, what was the worst that could happen. Well, Mommy could say no. Tyra thought, however, that Mommy would agree.

***

When Leanne came back into the room, she had a cart with her. There were three syringes on it. There was also something that looked like a fire poker, but it had a cord hanging from it. Then there was the hacksaw. That'd definitely do the job of removing the fingerless hands and toeless feet.

"Mommy," Tyra said. "I was wondering if you'd do something for me?"

"Anything, baby," the mother said as she plugged the poker thingy into a wall socket.

"Wait until I ask," the little girl said. "You might not like this."

Seeing the puzzled look on her mother's face, the 10-year-old continued.

"If I pass out, I want you to smack me to wake me. Keep trying that for at least two minutes before trying anything else."

"Why," Leanne asked as she began to remove her clothes. "Why would you want me to do that?"

"I've been beaten before while making movies, but you've never hit me once that I can remember. I want you to beat me up. I want to feel what it's like to have my mommy really hurt me."

Leanne stared in shock at her little girl. This was going way beyond her comfort zone. Fuck that. It'd passed that point day ago. After some serious internal argument, she agreed. There were some conditions, though.

"If you really want that, I'll do it. But today, there'll be very little of that. After I remove your limbs tomorrow, we'll see about smacking you around as much as you want. For the serious beating, you'll have to wait until Friday. When you're satisfied with the beating, I'll cut you open like you want and then cut off your head."

Tyra thought that sounded like a fair compromise. There was, however, one thing she would like today.

"Will you at least break my fingers before cutting them off? That would be awesome.You know, cut off a finger and break the next. Then, wait a minute before continuing. "

"Okay, honey," the woman said. "Are you ready to begin?"

Tyra just smiled.

***

Jim watched from his office. He had a live feed via the security cameras. It wasn't as nice as the professional video cameras they had in the room, but he wouldn't look at that footage until later that evening.

He marveled at Leanne's determination. She was going through with it despite her own discomfort. He'd been surprised when she approached him while they were setting up the rooms. Her offer to be the torturer for her own daughter surprised him and he worried that she might not be able to do it.

If that proved to be the case, Jim had a backup only a phone call away. One call and Alex could be there in twenty minutes. Alex was was ideal for situations like this. He was so emotionally detached, he never took anything personally. He was not swayed by tears, begging, or even the age of the victim. He was paid for a job and he'd do it.

If Leanne found herself unable to continue, it'd be a little awkward with the transition from one torturer to the other, but that was a minor problem. A little note put into the video mentioning the mother couldn't bear to continue the torture should suffice. He cleared his mind again as he saw that Leanne was ready to start.

***

Leanne walked up to her daughter - her beautiful 10-year-old daughter - and fastened the restraints around the little girl's wrists. She brushed Tyra's hair back into a ponytail and used a band from her pocket to hold it. They wanted a clear shot of their victim's face.

"Baby," Leanne said. "This is it. Once I start, I won't stop until I am done. I won't be finished until I've removed your hands and feet. This is your last chance to back out. Do you really want to continue?"

Tyra was conflicted. Part of her wished her mother would just get on with it. The suspense was killing her. The other part was happy that her mother was so concerned about this that she had to keep giving warnings. Both parts wanted this, though, so the little girl nodded.

"Yes, Mommy," she said. "Let's start."

Leanne blew out a breath and nodded. There was no turning back now. Tyra had just sealed her own fate. Stepping forward, the mother grasped her daughter's left hand and bent the thumb back until a loud snap was heard.

Tyra shrieked. This was awesome. Oh, it hurt like fucking hell, but the excited tingles ran up and down her body, leaving gooseflesh in their wake. She started breathing slowly and deeply. She'd read that helps with pain management.

"Oh," she moaned. "That was so good."

Leanne looked at her daughter incredulously. The little girl really did enjoy this. Well, they'd see how she liked the next part. As the second hand of the clock completed its orbit, Leanne picked up the tin snips.

"Here we go," she muttered to herself under her breath.

She placed the blades around the broken digit and squeezed the handle as hard as she could. The break, where the thumb joins the palm, helped tremendously. As it was already broken, there was little resistance and the mother easily severed her daughter's left thumb.

As Tyra began gasping at this new pain, Leanne picked up the poker. Its end was glowing red with the heat. Pressing the tip to the hand where the thumb had once been connected, she cauterized the wound.

There was no gasping or slow deep breaths, now. Tyra shrieked and pulled on the restraints. Her efforts, however were meaningless. She was going nowhere and her mother would continue until all the remaining nine fingers and all ten toes had been similarly dealt with.

"Oh, fuck," Tyra said, regaining her composure quickly. "That was awesome."

Leanne did not even hesitate. She grasped the child's right hand and snapped the right thumb exactly as she had with the left. Tyra began with the deep breaths again and sixty seconds later, there was a gasp as the right thumb joined the left thumb on the table and an agonized shriek as the wound was cauterized.

This set the pattern. First, Leanne would break one of the fingers on the little girl's left hand. Then, sixty seconds later, she would cut it off and cauterize the wound. Then she would repeat the process on the same finger on her daughter's right hand. Her estimation of about one minute per finger was off. It took thirty minutes to finish with the hands.

"Should I break and cut off the hands now," she asked her weeping daughter. "Or would you like me to move on to the toes for now?"

She'd fought down the urge to vomit a few times when dealing with the fingers. She could not believe she was doing this. The look of pleasure on Tyra's tear-stained face, though, was enough to convince her that she had to continue.

"Do my toes, Mommy," the 10-year-old said. "Let me enjoy this pain a little longer."

The little girl looked at her fingerless hands and giggled.

"They look so funny, Mommy."

***

Jim was pouring himself a drink when there was a knock at the door. He'd left orders not to be disturbed, so this had better be good. Opening the door, he saw Carol Naylor standing there.

"I heard there were some last minute changes to the script," she said. "Wanna talk about it?"

"Are you here professionally, or as a friend," Jim replied with a weak smile.

"Whatever you need, my friend. I'm always your friend but I'll only be your doctor when you want it."

Offering a drink to Carol, he was delighted when she accepted. It was to be informal, then. He knew Carol well and if she was going to drink, she would not be acting in some professional capacity. She'd still have good advice, but none of this would be documented.

"A friend," he said eagerly. "I'd much prefer a friend."

Carol took her drink and sat on the sofa. Looking at the video display, she saw Leanne remove Tyra's right thumb.

"That is intense," she said after taking a sip.

"It's what Tyra wanted. Leanne approached me after our meeting this morning and offered to be the torturer for her daughter. It's their last chance to do anything meaningful together and Leanne didn't want to just sit by. The other two weren't so anxious to participate. They're still very uncomfortable with the whole thing."

"So, Leanne's going to remove Tyra's fingers?"

"Her fingers, toes, hands, and feet. Before removing something, however, she'll break it. That was also one of Tyra's requests. When the fingers and toes are gone, Leanne'll use a sledgehammer to pulverise the little girl's hands and feet. Then, she'll remove those."

"This is nuts," Carol said, her voice filled with awe.

"That's not the worst part."

"I'm not sure I want to know."

"On Friday, Leanne'll cut Tyra open from the pubic region to the chest and then cut her head off."

"Oh, my God."

"And then, Leanne wants whoever kills her to slowly cut her head off with a butcher knife."

"I know," she said. "She wants me to do it."

"She wants to atone for raising her daughter to be a pain slut," Jim said. "I don't really think it's necessary, but she does."

"Wow."

"Leanne wants you to take her head off. Slowly. Painfully."

"I'm not one of your torturers, Jim."

"I know. You are, however, Leanne's choice for an executioner if you'll do it."

"I know, Jim. I need to talk to her about this."

"I thought you'd say that," he said. "After she's done with Tyra in there, she's free for the rest of the day."

"I'll talk to her."

***

The toes were much easier. Leanne used a hammer to smash them. She followed the same pattern she used with the fingers. Smash a toe, wait sixty seconds, cut it off, and then cauterize the wound. Then do the same thing to the same toe on the other foot. It wasn't overly difficult. It still took about forty-five minutes.

She'd had to use one of the syringes to revive Tyra once the little girl lost consciousness. The pain was somehow more intense when working on the toes. She'd only needed one syringe, though, so there should be enough to make it through the removal of the little girl's hands and feet.

After the last wound had been cauterized, Leanne stood and looked at her daughter. The child had no fingers or toes. Now, she was going to lose her hands and feet. Before that, though, the hands and feet needed to be destroyed. Picking up the hammer, she raised it high above the little girl's left hand.

"Do it, Mommy," Tyra said through sobs of pain. "Do it. Smash my hand."

Realizing she had no choice but to go on, she did as her daughter asked. She brought the hammer down on the hand as hard as she could. There was a horrendous cracking noise before the child's screeches drowned them out. Without waiting, she repeated the strike six more times, hearing crunches with each blow.

When she was done, the hand didn't look much like a hand anymore. It was just a lump of flesh. Looking at her daughter, Leanne saw that the child had passed out again. Raising her left hand she brought it down and across smacking her child across the face and leaving a reddening hand print.

Two more blows were needed to wake the tortured child.

"Oh, God, Mommy," Tyra said. "This's too much. I've been coming since you started on my toes. That last one was so strong, I blacked out."

"It can't be too much, yet," Leanne said. "We still have your right hand and both feet to destroy."

"If I'd known it'd be this good," the little girl said, "I might've done this long ago."

There was no more time for discussion because Leanne chose that moment to start on the right hand. It didn't take long before she was done. Tyra didn't lose consciousness this time. The 10- year-old child merely cried while smiling at the same time.

"We have another choice for you," she said to her daughter. "Do you want me to cut off your hands now or do you want to wait until I've smashed your feet?"

"Smash my feet first, please."

Leanne didn't hesitate. She picked up the sledgehammer and brought it up high. With a nod from her daughter, the blonde mother brought it down with all her might and the left foot was crushed. It wouldn't take more than one blow from the large hammer to get the results she needed.

"Again," she heard Tyra say weakly. "Do it again."

The mother raised the hammer above her head again and brought it down on the injured foot. There was a sickening crunching as broken bones were ground together. Tyra let out a howl of agony and started sobbing again.

"One more time," the 10-year-old said once she'd calmed down a bit.

After the third blow from the hammer, Tyra passed out. Leanne roused her by slapping the child's face a few times. The grin on the little girl's face was beautiful.

"I came again," she said.

Looking at her daughter's crotch, she could see the child's pussy was gushing fluid.

"Wow," Leanne said. "I had no idea pain did this to you, baby."

"It's been like that for a long time, Mommy."

The left foot was pulped. It was time to start on the right foot.

"Ready for the other one, sweetie?"

"God, yes," the 10-year-old said.

Leanne took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Here we go, baby."

Her aim was true and the right foot was crushed with a horrid crunching noise. Looking at Tyra's face and seeing the strained nod, the mother raised the hammer and brought it down again.

"Oh, God," Tyra said as pussy juice sprayed from her cunt. "One more, Mommy. One more."

In continuing amazement at her daughter's performance, she raised the hammer and brought it down a third time. At this point, it wouldn't matter if the little girl wanted it again. That sledgehammer was goddamned heavy and Leanne's arms needed a rest.

When the third blow came, Tyra let out a howl. Leanne couldn't tell if it was from pain or pleasure. It really didn't matter. The child passed out. It was okay. Leanne wanted to take a break. Putting the sledgehammer on the table, she left the room.

***

There was a knock on the door and the room's occupants knew who it was.

"Come in, Leanne," Jim said.

When Leanne entered the office, she was only mildly surprised to see Carol there. Although Carol wasn't officially involved in this production, her unofficial involvement was invaluable.

"Hello, Carol. How long have you been here?"

"Not long," Carol replied. "I thought about the changes the girls wanted for the scripts and, knowing Jim, I knew he'd probably want to talk about it. I also thought about your request and wanted to talk to you."

Leanne nodded. Sooner was better with Carol. This was a potentially touchy subject.

"I'll go check on Tyra," Jim said. "I know she's out of it right now, but someone should keep an eye on her and let us know when she wakes."

Neither of the two women mentioned the camera crew that was filming. They were already watching the unconscious little girl.

"Thank you, Jim," Leanne said. "I just needed a little break."

"I understand," Jim said. "Well, no, I don't. Not really. Take as long as you need, though."

Leanne smiled. Jim was just like that. He might not understand your viewpoint, but he didn't need to. He knew that she was experiencing some serious internal turmoil and needed to talk to Carol. After the door was closed, Leanne took a seat and just stared at the floor for a few minutes.

"How are you doing," Carol asked.

The naked mother bit back her sarcastic response. Carol knew goddamned well how Leanne was doing. Leanne still needed to say it. That was part of therapy.

"I've been better," Leanne said.

"Jim told me about what you're doing for Tyra."

Leanne returned her gaze to the floor.

"Stop that," Carol barked. "This isn't about you. That little girl asked you to do this. Remember what we talked about? She needs this and you're doing it for her."

"Like giving alcohol to a drunk."

"To a degree," Carol replied. "But think about this. Someone would be doing it to her. What she requested would appeal to the perverts who take delight in child bondage. Someone would be willing to give her the degree of torture she wants."

"But why me?"

"Because she loves you. She's a child. She really doesn't understand how much this hurts you. She sees this as a grand adventure and wants to share it with you."

"She wants me to beat her," Leanne said. "After her arms and legs are gone, she wants me to use her as a punching bag."

Carol let out a sigh.

"Let's talk about something else for a moment," the psychologist said. "I've thought about your request. Do you feel up to talking about it?"

"Yeah," Leanne said, blushing a little. "I do. I'm committed to this. If you don't do it, someone will. By Friday night, I'll be dead."

"Why me?"

"You're a friend. Perhaps my only real friend. If I'm going to go out like that, I'd like to have a friend close when I die. I think I'd be too scared otherwise."

That made sense.

"I'm not sure about this, Leanne. I'm not opposed to the idea, really, but there're issues. I have a practice and there're several people who'd be inconvenienced if their therapist appeared in a snuff film."

"Could you wear a hood? Hide your face?"

"I could," Carol replied. "Actually, I just thought of something. I'd need to be naked for this, right?"

"Oh, yeah," Leanne said. "I hadn't thought about that."

"Well, that might be okay."

"What do you mean?"

"I'll place bandages over my tattoos to hide my identity."

"But you don't have any tattoos."

"We both know that. The audience, though, would likely think I'm trying to hide any identifying marks. Put bandages around my forearms, calves, and neck, and it'll look like I'm hiding something."

Leanne laughed.

"So, you'll do it?"

Carol was completely confused. Here her friend was, asking a favor. Really, it'd be the last favor she'd likely ask. Could she really say no? Danii wasn't an issue. She was still away and wouldn't be returning until next week. Looking at her friend, she realized that it was really no choice. She was going to do it. She was as good as recruited when Jim brought it up.

"Yes, Leanne," she said. "I'll do it."

***

When Leanne returned to the room where Tyra was sleeping, Jim met her at the door.

"You okay?"

"She said she'll do it," the woman said.

"You knew she would."

"Don't let her know that."

"Tyra's been stirring a bit," Jim said. "You should have no trouble reviving her."

"Thanks, Jim."

***

As Leanne walked through the door, Tyra's eyelids fluttered and then opened.

"Did you have a good nap, sweetie," Leanne asked her poor mangled daughter.

"What," the 10-year-old asked.

"Never mind, baby. I'm going to remove your restraints for a little bit."

"Why, Mom?"

"Well," Leanne said, "I thought you might like to see what it feels like to walk with broken feet."

"I'm not sure about this, Mommy."

"Would you rather I just proceed with removing them, then?"

"No. You may be right. I am curious."

Leanne finished removing the leg restraints and held her hand out to her daughter. Tyra reached out, but with her demolished hand, she could not control her fingers. Leanne grabbed Tyra's forearm and pulled the girl out of the chair.

When her weight hit her feet, the girl shrieked and fell sideways, her arm slipping through Leanne's grasp. The mother tried to tighten her grip, but managed only to squeeze the mushy hand. Tyra howled out again and Leanne let go, letting the girl fall to the floor.

"I think I'm done," Tyra said. "I think I want you to remove them now."

Leanne smiled.

"Okay, sweetie," she said to the little girl. "Let me help you back into the chair."

It took a lot of effort. While Tyra wasn't all that heavy, Leanne simply wasn't that strong. She did it, though. In the process, however, she smashed Tyra's left hand into the chair and stepped on the little girl's right foot.

"Oh, God, Mommy," the little girl said while her mother strapped back into the chair. "That hurt far more than I expected."

"Of course it hurt, sweetie. The bones and muscles down there are all damaged. The only things down there that are still working properly are your nerve endings."

"Wow."

"Which would you like me to remove first," Leanne asked.

"My feet," her daughter replied.

"Okay," her mother said as she retrieved a tourniquet and applied it to Tyra's lower shin.

"What is that?"

"This is called a tourniquet. It is used to stop the bloodflow to a part of your body. In this case, I am using it to block the blood from flowing into your foot. This way, we minimize the bleeding when I cut your foot off."

"Oh. So, I won't bleed to death?"

"You won't bleed to death."

"Cool."

Leanne finished with the tourniquet and picked up the hacksaw. She couldn't believe she was going to do this. She was going to cut off her daughter's foot. Taking a deep breath, she got to work.

Tyra howled as her mother sawed through first flesh, then bone, as she removed the 10-year-old's right foot. The tourniquet worked properly and there was very little blood loss. Now, she just needed to cauterize the wound before moving on to the other foot.

Taking the searing poker, she touched the glowing tip to the wound and held it there for a few moments. One the wound was cauterized, Leanne cleaned the leg stump and bandaged it. Then, she repeated the entire process on the other foot. Just as she finished bandaging the second stump, the pain overwhelmed Tyra and she passed out again.

Leanne let the child remain unconscious as she moved the table around so the little girl's arms could rest easily on it. She left the room and returned with two strong men. They'd hold the girl immobile as there were no restraints on the table.

After letting the girl rest for another minute, Leanne slapped Tyra across the face. There was a moaned response but it was intelligible and the child didn't wake. Leanne struck her daughter two more times before Tyra opened her eyes.

"Welcome back," Leanne said. "Now we need to remove your hands. These nice men will hold your arm straight so I can remove the hand cleanly without worrying about your struggles. Isn't that nice of them?"

"Can one of them tickle my pussy," the little girl asked. "I'm so horny right now."

"Work first," the mother replied with mock seriousness. "When we're done, I'll leave and you three can have any fun they're comfortable with. Well, with one exception. They are not to hurt you at all. The pain, we'll save for tomorrow."

Tyra shrugged. It only made sense. The men would need both hands to hold her arm still. She placed her right arm on the table and looked up at her mother expectantly.

"Are you ready, baby," Leanne asked.

Tyra's only response was a broad genuine smile. Leanne nodded at the men and they placed their hands on the little girl's forearm and held it rock still. When they were certain that they had it immobile, they looked at the mother and the smiled.

"Try to pull away, baby."

Tyra did as her mother said and found no wiggle room at all. As long as these men held her, she was going nowhere.

"I can't, Mommy."

"Good," Leanne said, fighting to stay calm. "This will be very painful. Do you want a shot to reduce the pain?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Mommy."

Leanne left it at that and picked up a tourniquet. Once she'd tied the tourniquet around the right forearm and picked up the hacksaw again. She placed the blade against the 10-year-old's wrist then moved it about an inch up the forearm. This would be easier to cut through and it would be easier to bandage.

"Here we go," she said under her breath.

Placing some force into her actions, she drew the blade back and pushed it forward. There was a line of red as the skin split and blood began to flow. The gasp from her daughter drew her attention.

"Baby," she said. "Do you want me to stop? Do you want to have that shot?"

"No, Mommy," Tyra said. "It hurts, but this also feels good. Really good."

Leanne had wished for a different answer. She knew what she had told Jim. She knew what she had told Carol. The truth, however, was that it was extremely difficult for her to continue the charade and pretend to enjoy this.

The mother continued her task and proceeded to saw through the little girl's forearm. It did not take long and soon, the fingerless palm was separated. Leanne quickly cauterized the wound and put a quick bandage on it.

"Fuck," Tyra moaned as she started to shake uncontrollably.

The men held the child tight as she was wracked by a tremendous orgasm. Leanne looked on in amazement and watched as the little girl writhed in pleasure until the glorious sensations subsided.

"Now," Leanne said, "the other one."

Tyra didn't hesitate. She placed the left arm on the table and the process was repeated. In a few minutes, the left hand came free. The wound was cauterized and bandaged. Now, the 10-year-old had no hands or feet.

"That's it," Leanne said. "How do you feel, baby?"

"Oh, Mommy," the little girl said, "I'm so confused. It feels so good, and it hurts so bad. I don't know if I should laugh or cry."

"Well," Leanne said as she started picking up the tools and placing them on the table, "I'll leave you in the capable hands of these men. Maybe they can help you figure it out."

The look of anticipated pleasure that passed between the two men and the child left little doubt in Leanne's mind as she left the room. Tyra would be laughing in no time.