This is my response to a “Kill Elena” challenge that a Facebook group posted. There were some really good ones out there and I just put in my two cents. All just say that one should probably do your research before you travel to foreign countries.
One Shot – They Still DO That?
She was making her way through a sightseeing vacation through Nepal. She had made her escape from Seattle when, unable to withstand her “training” anymore, her latest underage sub confessed their relationship to his parents. She learned the hard way that not all young boys were willing to do anything for a fuck. Victor’s parents came after her with a vengeance. It was her word against his and he had no proof of her abuse besides the bruising on his body from the whips and canes. However, when the police searched her Bellevue home for the proof that young Victor assured them would be there, Elena had dismantled the playroom and destroyed all evidence of her prior BDSM activities. There was no way to convict her or even make an arrest stick.
Victor’s parents were relentless in their plight for Elena’s demise. Public outcries were made for any other young boys that had been victimized by her to come forth, but none did. Her name was dragged through every tabloid and newspaper on the west coast. She was virtually worthless in the eyes of high society. Even though there was no arrest and no conviction, the stigma attached to the accusation of molesting 14-year-old boys was more than anyone wanted to be associated with. Her salon business slowly dwindled until it failed. Christian was following that mousy little bitch around like a lost puppy—five years and three kids later and he still hasn’t seen her for the worthless little skank that Elena felt she was. She had lost everything of any real value to her—her salons, her love, her name…
…But she still had her fortune.
Rather than be run out of town on a rail, Elena decided to take a trip around the world and decide where she wanted to lay new roots. She no longer wanted to sit and watch Christian play happy little father if she couldn’t have him. No man anywhere could resist her charms—or so she thought—except for Linc… and Victor…
On the advice of a travel agent friend, she decided to travel through Asia. American money went very far in some of the countries—particularly in comparison to the Nepalese rupee. Starting her trip in Kathmandu admiring the House of the Living Goddess, Elena continued a 60-day trek through Nepal. She visited Patan, Bhaktapur. Pokharal, Lumbini, Gorkha, and Nagarkot. Her trip would take her back to Kathmandu and she would continue to Sri Lanka where she planned to spend 15 days being pampered and exploring ancient cities. She couldn’t help but think it was all very Eat, Pray, Love.
Today had found her in Bhaktapur. The architecture and history were enchanting. However, drawn to her old ways, Elena could not resist the men with their dark hair, chiseled features, full lips, and mysterious dark eyes. They were just as enchanted with the beautiful blonde American and her American money. She didn’t speak the language, but had a “guide” of sorts named Bibek that she paid to travel with her and translate for her. Elena took great joy in tasting the flavors of Nepal… namely Himal and Raju and his brother Suraj. She only had two days left in Bhaktapur, but could not resist her urges when she saw him…
Muscular, gorgeous and young! Built like a man and beautiful… much like Christian was when he was younger. She could tell that he was poor… from a local farm, no doubt.
“What is your name, Boy?” She spoke and Bibek translated for her.
“Nischal,” he respond.
“Mmmmm, Nischal. You are beautiful. I am Elena. Would you like to have lunch with me?” Without waiting for Bibek to translate, Nischal answers.
“Yes, I will have lunch with you.” Elena is pleased to know that there is no language barrier.
“How do you know English?” she purrs.
“Many tourists come through here. We must learn the language to make the money,” he says honestly. His voice is honey smooth and again, she thinks of Christian. She dismisses Bibek for now and takes Nischal to lunch at Khwapa Chhen Guest House and Restaurant, where she had a room apart from her hotel. She wouldn’t want to be seen bringing a child to her hotel room… but to Elena, this was no child. This was a… pre-man, yes! That’s what she’ll call him… a pre-man waiting for someone to pluck his young cherry, she thought. That’s just what she did… several times over the course of the next few days. He was virile and eager and horny as fuck, just like she liked them. He didn’t last long his first time and she immediately knew that he was a virgin. But he caught on in no time flat, affording Elena the long, hard, relentless fucks her body yearned that she didn’t get from the other men she had sampled on her trip.
The day came when Elena had to journey to her next destination. She feigned sorrow in leaving her latest plaything behind. The only sorrow she felt was that she couldn’t take him with her and continue the exquisite fucking. What a wonderful pet he would make. He’s already putty in my hands, she thought to herself… he would do anything I asked. Yet, she left him as just a memory and continued with her trip.
She tasted more flavors of Nepal in Pokharal, Lumbini, and Gorkha… endless flavors, to be exact. Bibek is back by her side for the rest of the trip and didn’t take kindly to playing her pimp.
“I’m paying you handsomely for your services,” Elena says in her Domme voice that has absolutely no effect on Bibek. “Keep your opinions to yourself, or I will find someone else!” she spit. Bibek glares at her, still anxious to get her American dollars but despising the very ground that she walks on. To him, she is an utter abomination to his country and his culture and he wants her gone. He has now been her translator, pimp, guide and errand boy for 47 days and he wants nothing more than to ditch the American blonde demon and get back to his family. She is an unscrupulous, nasty, filthy whore and he has no idea why any of his countrymen would want to touch her let alone bed her! She is outwardly attractive, but there is a devil inside—one that makes you want to run away and never look back.
This is her last night in Gorkha, and Elena has decided to spend it preparing for her journey to Nagarkot the next day. Her bags are packed and she has just finished a bath when a knock at her hotel room door reveals a stricken Nischal. He looks tired and depressed.
“What are you doing here?” she asked the 14-year-old Nepalese boy.
“I come to find you. I see you with all those other men. You say you love me!” he accuses. Elena snatches him into the room and, after checking the hallway for other guests, closes the door behind him.
“Did anyone see you come up here?” she barks.
“Why you sleep with other men when you love me?” he shouts.
“Did anyone see you come up here!?” she snaps again. Her Domme voice brings Nischal to heel and he immediately becomes contrite.
“No. No one saw me,” he responds, softly, bowing his head like a good little pet. Dammit, I wish I could keep him, Elena thought to herself. He’s a natural submissive and I’ve only fucked him… I haven’t taught him anything yet. She dropped her robe to reveal her naked body to him—perfectly tucked tummy, full silicone breasts, surgically lifted and rounded ass.
“Those men meant nothing to me, Nischal. It’s you that I want,” she taunted the teenager as he helplessly once again succumbed to her evil charms.
The next day, Bibek looks on in disgust as Elena once again proclaims her love to a broken Nischal and leaves him standing on the street to continue her vacation. He is not surprised when, on their second day in Nagarkot, Nischal has caught up with them again. This time, the brokenhearted teenager has interrupted a perfectly good fuck with another local stallion and Elena is livid.
“You stupid child!” she scolds. ‘Go back to your farm and your family. This was a fuck! That’s all! Brag to your friends about the blonde American goddess that took your virginity, but for God’s sake, stop following me around!” Nischal is completely crestfallen at her words. He leaves her room in broken silence and Bibek has witnessed the whole thing. He comforts the child in the hallway and gives him the witch’s American money to get back to his village. Bibek has a child not much younger than Nischal. He pulls out the picture of his wife and three children and examines his 13-year-old son, Bikash. This could have been my child, he thought to himself. This could have been anyone’s child. This was someone’s child. This evil creature seems to have an unending fountain of American dollars and no conscience whatsoever. Money and power and no responsibility or morals… that is a dangerous combination to unleash upon the world. She must be stopped.
Elena and Bibek are about to leave Nagarkot to spend the final seven days of her trip back in Kathmandu. “Miss, I am having troubles at home and I must send money. May I be paid for the trip so far?” Elena’s face contorts.
“Our agreement was that I would pay your expenses and a portion of your fees until I left Kathmandu at which time I would pay you the balance,” she says with a scowl.
“I know, Miss, but if I can’t send money home, I must leave you and take care of family problem.” Elena is clearly perturbed but doesn’t want to break in a new guide for her last week in Nepal.
“Very well, but I won’t pay you for the last seven days until your work is completed,” she spits.
“Thank you, Miss,” Bibek says as Elena counts out full payment for the trip minus the last seven days. Once they are on the road back to Kathmandu, Bibek announces that they must detour to switch cars. Elena is not pleased with this news, but consents as long as they are back on the road to Kathmandu without delay. After several minutes of driving, they pull into a small village. How will he switch cars here, Elena thought?
“Come, Miss. We hurry,” Bibek says and he and the driver exit the car and run inside… a hut? Elena steps out of the car and is immediately surrounded by a horde of Nepalese women. They scowl and sneer at her and she is immediately uneasy.
“Devil!” one woman spits at her. Elena scowls and clings to her purse.
“What is this!?” she snaps. “Get away from me!” All ugly Nepalese women—clearly they are jealous of her, she thought.
“Demon!” another one jeers, and the circle closes in on Elena. She is now very afraid for her safety and she calls out for Bibek.
“Wicked!” she hears from behind her as she is hit in a head with a rock. She immediately grabs her head and feels blood trickling through her hair.
“What have I done to you? Please, leave me alone. Bibek! Bibek!” she screams, but no one comes to her rescue. The women hit Elena with stones, pull at her hair, kick her and beat her mercilessly while she screams in agony and begs the women to stop, beseeching them to tell her how she has wronged them. After several minutes of unrelenting battering, Elena finally loses consciousness.
She awakes in excruciating pain. She is naked and covered in blood, cuts, and black and blue bruises. Her hair has been pulled out at the roots in several patches and she is sure that she is suffering from at least a broken wrist, arm, and several ribs. These things are not what terrifies her the most. She is horrified to find that she if crammed into what looks like a dog cage, approximately 4x4x4 if she had to guess. What the hell is going on here, her mind screams, but when she opens her mouth, she is greeted with more excruciating pain and only mumbling sounds. Her nightmare continues when she discovers that they have cut out her tongue.
“She is awake! The witch is awake!” she hears a voice yell. It is now beyond nightfall in the obscure village. There is no light here, no electricity. The only light comes from a huge bonfire set in the middle of a cluster of huts. The villagers all begin to gather around the animal in the cage.
“Let me out of here!” Elena’s words are saying, but words are just an incoherent mumble. She feels some relief to see Bibek walking through the crowd. Oh thank God, she thought, he’ll save me!
“Miss, you have committed a crime,” he says to her as he approaches her cage. Her relief is short-lived and she is overcome with terror again. She shakes her head wildly indicating that she has committed no crime. “But you have, Miss. This is Nischal’s village… old county goes by old ways.” Nischal… my little pet. This is about him. Where is Nischal?
Bibek chooses his words carefully. The villagers speak English, but he knows that one word can have two meanings. “You must plead your case, Miss,” he says. Anything, she thinks, anything, just get me out of here! “You want Nischal?” Bibek asks. Elena nods. If she can convince these wood-dwellers that she will take care of Nischal, hopefully they’ll let her go… long enough to get to the American Embassy and get the hell out.
“You have to have him, to possess him.” Yes, yes, she nods, hurry up!
“You want him to be yours!” he asks with fervor. Yes, forever and ever, happily ever after. Can I go now?
“You enchanted him!” he barks, accusing. Well, of course! Any many would be enchanted with me, she thought. This naïve little idiot didn’t stand a chance against me and my skills, she thinks haughtily as she nods her agreement.
“Wiiiiiitch!” someone screams from the crowd. Oh, there’s no need for name calling, Elena thought. Nischal is probably promised to someone and that’s his intended screaming names! Her ignorance is soon broken when the entire mob begins to quietly chant the word…
No! No! They can’t think that, Elena thinks in terror. They think I’m a real witch.
“No! No!” she mumbling from her swollen mouth and her lack of tongue. “No! No!”
“I see her!” Bibek accuses. She now realizes that it is he who is her accuser and not Nischal. Where is Nischal!? He will tell them, she thinks to herself.
“She lure them in and they follow. She lured Nischal. Many days, she cast her spells on him and then send him away. He leave his family to follow her. She lure him in for another day. I see it! I try to save him but her evil push me back.” Nischal, please save me, her soul prays.
“Who would want her?” Bibek continues. “She is old and foul-tempered. Her parts are not real, yet they fall at her feet like she is Kumari! I see it. Many, many men… more than the stars. I never see her sleep… just many men. She must be a witch!”
“No!” Elena’s muffled cries fall on deaf ears.
“Look at Nischal,” a woman cries. “She take his soul. He not meditate. He not eat or sleep for many days. He disappear and he come back, he not Nischal. She take his soul!” This must be his mother. “You hear her. You see her nod. She say she enchant him!”
Elena begins to feel stabs from many spears aiming at her in the cage. She can’t squirm away because when she does, another spear hits her from the side to which she escapes. Someone stabs her viciously in the chest and her silicone breast bursts. The villagers gasps when the contents start to seep out of her boob. One of the ladies scream,
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! Wiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitch. Burn her!” Elena is now nearly hysterical in her pain and she can’t help but see the irony in this situation. She has beaten and bruised several teenage boys in her lifetime. Yes, she drew blood on more than one occasion. She sometimes ignored their cries to end their torment, whether it was physical or sexual. She knows for certain that some of them became strong, handsome, powerful men—like her Christian—while some of them turned to drugs, crime, and even committed suicide. That wasn’t her fault though, she thought to herself as she sit bleeding and no doubt dying in a cage like an animal with silicone leaking out of her breast. She tried to help them, tried to turn their miserable lives into something worthwhile. They just didn’t follow her teaching.
Her cage is carried to a pile of hay and dry wood. She watches as the women who had tormented her earlier that day circle around her cage, each of them with a young boy of varying ages standing in front of them. It had to be twenty of them there… at least. The mothers all have their hands on the shoulders of their sons as they watch in complete silence the ritual that unfolds before them. Elena doesn’t bother to beg for her life anymore. She knows this is the end.
Each mother takes her turn dousing Elena and her kindling with kerosene. She looks at the boys one by one, the oldest of them maybe 16, the youngest looks to be around eight. She knows that she is in a cage in Nepal about to meet her fate, yet each of these boys seem to take on the face of one her pets… Shane, Marcus, Henry, Allen, Victor… When she sees the gorgeous copper-haired, gray-eyed 15-year-old Christian, she smiles. The fates have allowed her one last glimpse of him before she dies. She clings to the cage and stares at him, still no apology in her heart for the pain that she has caused so many, only longingly staring at the one person who could have brought joy to her life.
Her view of her beloved is blocked by an angry Nepalese boy with a torch. When she raises her head to see his face, it is a scowling Nischal who lights the wood and hay underneath her. The catch is immediate and in seconds, Elena’s body is covered in flames. Her mumbled screams are only tortured gargles in her throat and only last until the flames burn through her skin to her nerves and the pain sends her body and mind into a state of shock then unconsciousness.
Bibek puts his hand on Nischal’s shoulder. “The spell is broken, but you will still feel pain,” he says to the young boy. “You will think of her often… but you will heal,” he adds with a smile. Nischal drops his head before throwing the torch into the barbeque and going with his family back to his hut.
Several days later, the news reaches Seattle to Christian and Ana as they sit in their family room. Teddy and Phoebe are playing with their black Labrador puppy while Christian cuddles young baby Lydia in his arms.
“Oh my God!” Ana says, more out of intrigue than surprise or horror.
“What is it, Baby?” Christian asks.
“Elena Lincoln is dead,” she says a little flatly still reading the article on her iPad. Christian frowns.
“Really? What happened to her?” he asks.
“You’re not going to believe this. It says here that she was found by the side of the road in Bhaktapur, Nepal in a cage burned beyond recognition. An anonymous call tipped off the authorities that it was an American tourist named Elena Lincoln.”
“In a cage? Who the hell did she piss off Nepal?” Christian gasps.
“I don’t know, but it says here that this execution has all the benchmarks of a witch burning,” Ana announces. Christian couldn’t help his burst of disbelieving laughter.
“Well, that would be quite appropriate,” he says before laying his youngest daughter in a nearby bassinet and sitting next to his wife. “Don’t they usually burn witches at the stake?”
“I don’t know. Cages make for easier disposal, I guess. What’s so bad is that is says that she wasn’t dead yet when they found her. She was balled up, her body parts burned together. She had been stabbed several times before they burned her, and her tongue was cut out. There was nothing they could do for her and they wouldn’t euthanize her. So she just died very slowly and painfully over the next several hours,” Ana says.
“Ouch, that’s cruel.” Christian shudders. “They still do that? I didn’t think they burned witches anymore.”
“Apparently there are still a few hidden villages that go by the old ways,” Ana replied. “So, to answer your question, yep, they still do that.”
Although this is based on a true story, I don’t know of any small Nepali villages that all speak English. So for the sake of the story, let’s just say that we found one.