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Like I've mentioned before, I usually follow extremely explicit rules, the better to keep myself safe and out of prison. I have broken them on occasion, though, and a few of the best, or worst, times were when I was in the UK. Now, one doesn't go into a job like mine unless one has a certain contempt for the female of the species, a certain need to degrade and debase that drives one to cruelty and a lack of empathy that most would find pathological. Given that, I have my fantasies, fantasies that are restricted by the rules I have set for myself. I don't play with my victims beyond a few hours (although I did break this rule once, but that is another story) even though the mere thought of having all that time to break down a strong, confident woman and turn her into something less that human is so, so delicious. I tend not to leave marks on my victims where they can be seen, even though a woman whose neck is red with the marks of a rope, whose face is bruised and battered, makes my blood boil. I've never, except one time, exposed my victim to anyone else, even though the thought of a woman bound, helpless, being ridden for days on end, her cunt and ass and mouth in use almost constantly, is too exciting to contemplate without a loss of control.
That one time I broke that rule and brought in another group of men to enjoy the fruits of my labor occurred during my second job in the UK. In fact, it was a specific requirement. Like I've said, I would usually simply ignore such a request, since for me to rape and break a woman and then leave her for others to use is too risky and too hard. First, it is almost impossible to hide the fact that she's been raped if other men find her in a bound, abused position. Also, most men, on seeing a beaten, bound woman in distress, will attempt to help her, not take advantage of her sexually. In other words, it's risky and it most likely won't work. The more I thought about it though, and the more I considered the victim, a beautiful, mature (she looked to be in her late twenties) woman with auburn hair and light blue eyes, the more I thought I could make it work, that I wanted to make it work. Her figure was fantastic, and she stood a statuesque 5'7" and weighed in at around 130 lbs, with tits and ass perfectly balanced around a nice, thin waist. She had the type of body that was built for sex, built to be used and abused, capable of absorbing an enormous amount of punishment. Best of all, though, from my perspective, was that she had a little sister, around 20 years of age.
Risky, sure, but I would be in a foreign country, one to which I probably wouldn't return; the money was very, very good; and I had a lever in the sister to ensure that she would behave for the men coming after me. I took the job.
After a week of scouting I settled on a plan that provided the least risk for myself, although higher than I would have preferred, as well as fulfilling all of the customer's requests. It turned out that my target, Andrea, liked to go horseback riding a couple of times a week, to which end she rented a horse from ---- stables, about an hours drive from her home. She tended to ride in the evening, and, at least the times I saw her, she stayed late taking care of her horse, seeming to enjoy brushing it down. It was the perfect location: lightly trafficked, and trafficked not at all after about 8 pm; isolated; and, best of all, in the early morning a few rather young, rough looking stable hands who, I noticed, didn't shy away from looking at the talent that came to ride.
In preparation, I went after-hours to the stable and set up an empty stable in the least trafficked area of the building with the tools of my trade, including a mic, a digital camera, a small, remote video camera, some rope, and a few stakes and other assorted items, including a special change of clothes for my victim. I also prepared a quick way out from the back of the stable in case it came to that, as well as a change of clothes. I also purchased an old beater and parked it near, so that I wouldn't be seen leaving the stables in the same car I came in. I also prepared a simple way to enter the stall of Elisabeth's (that was her name, by the way) favorite stall by loosening a few boards at the back of the stall. All that was left was to wait.
When the time came, a weekday in the late afternoon, I walked a kilometer or so to the stables, making sure not to be seen as I approached, and went directly to my hiding place, behind the stable near the loosened boards. Around closing time I heard her lead her favorite horse into the stable, and I smiled as I peered through the boards, seeing the horse's legs and the jean-clad legs of my sexy Lizzy, and listened to her chatting with one of the stable boys. I listened as she flirted lightly with him while rubbing down the horse, teasing him gently in the way only a truly sexy woman could, and I felt myself grow calmer, quieter, knowing that soon I would reduce her to her essence, I would tear her down, strip her of all her humanity, and turn her into an object meant only for the gratification of another, of me and my client.
The stable boy finally left, and we were alone, Lizzy and I, or almost alone, since I could still hear a few of the stable's employees hanging around catching a smoke in the front before they went home. I could tell by the way she was moving that Lizzy was finishing up, so I had to move quickly. I waited until the horse was between us before I slipped into the stall, a baseball cap's brim pulled low over my eyes, my head down, a stun gun in my hand. I slipped around the animal, approaching my victim as she hung up the brush against the wall, closing quickly with her. At the last instance she felt my presence and started to turn, but by then it was too late, the stun gun pressed against the back of her shoulder, her body slumping against mine as I reached around her, my arm around her waist, pulling her to me. I quickly lifted her arm and placed it around my neck, keeping my head turned away from her, and paused a second, listening.
This was one of the riskiest times. I had to move her three stalls down and a couple over, and I would be in plain site of anybody who came along and cared to look. I wouldn't be exposed for more than about 10 seconds, but I knew as better than most that that was enough time to completely change a situation. Hearing no one near I slid out of the stall and quickly and quietly shut it before dragging my victim toward her destiny. I ignored the voices behind me, knowing that they came from out of site, the laughter of people knocking off work, and slid myself and Lizzy into what I now was thinking about as the 'rape stall'.
I dropped her roughly onto the dirt and straw of the empty stall, leaving her laying splayed on her face, and quickly changed the cap for a mask before falling on my victim and preparing her. When I was done she was laying nude, spread-eagled on the ground, her legs apart, her arms straight out to her sides, a block of wood covered with a blanket lifting up her hips, exposing that big, sexy, meaty ass, her asshole peaking from between those beautiful cheeks, her cunt pushed out as if in offering, tent stakes on either side of her ankles, her knees, her stomach, her neck, her elbows and her wrists. Rope tied her tight to the ground, holding her in place, marking her skin. Her mouth was covered with three layers of duct tape, a large dildo-gag pressing against the back of her throat, gagging her, silencing her even as she started to recover from the stun. I thought it was about time to demonstrate her place in our relationship and slid my pants down to my thighs, freeing my cock for usage.
I laid down on top her, making sure to cover her completely, enjoying the way she tried to struggle against my weight and her binding, her panicked writhing adding to my enjoyment. I kept silent, enjoying the feel of her body even as I slipped my cock between her legs, letting her feel me, letting her know what was about to happen, letting her know that there was nothing she could do to prevent it. I leaned down and blew into her ear, loving the soft, mewling grunts coming from behind the tape, the fear trembling through her body as I slid my cock back and forth along her slit. I mimicked a slight Irish accent as I heard a car door shut and an engine start up. "They're leaving, girl, leaving you and me all alone here. Lucky, isn't it?"
My voice seemed to prod her to greater effort, rewarding me with more tight, squirming bound flesh, my cock growing harder with each quiver of her bound body, until I was ready. I slid my hips up and guided my cock against the tight brown hole nestled between her gorgeous ass-cheeks and slowly began to press. I heard a grunt and her nostrils flared as she realized that I was going to ass-fuck her, ass-fuck her dry. Tight and warm and rough, her ass surrounded me, clenched against me, massaged me, pleasured me even as she fought and cried before she stopped fighting, her body still tense, her muscles still quivering. I held still inside her, my body covering hers, my cock pulsing inside her, my breath against her ear, against her neck, my tongue dragging across her cheek, damp with her tears.
I started talking to her, softly, moving only a little, a very, very little, telling her what a sexy bitch she was, what a hot body she had, that she was made to be fucked, to be raped. I told her that I had been watching her and her little sister (she certainly tensed at that) and that I chose her because I loved the way she used her sexy, sexy body to tease guys, to drive them crazy, promising them things she was never going to deliver on. I told her I had thought about getting a piece of her the old-fashioned way, but that I knew I'd only get a come-on without the follow through. This was the only way for teasing bitches like her, the only way to get what we wanted, a taste of their sweet bodies.
Each time a sound of someone outside made its way to us I commented on it, teasing her with how close other people were, how close she was to being saved, letting hope rise in her before letting it be dashed, driving her deeper into despair. All the time I enjoyed the sensations wrapping my cock, the feeling of her body trapped beneath mine, the expressions of fear, rage, and despair flitting across her face. I kept talking, telling her how I knew what teasing cunts like her really wanted; that they really wanted a strong man to take them, to put them in their place, to take the power their sex gave them away from them, to use that power against them. Only then would they truly enjoy sex, only once they were punished, broken, begging to be taken by their Master would they truly be able to enjoy being fucked. I told her that I knew that she didn't believe it, but that I would make her believe it, I would make her body respond to me, to cum for me, and then she would know the truth.
All bullshit, of course, but for a woman bound, raped, a cock up her ass, her body covered by her rapist, her mind trying to escape, its mere repetition, and I repeated it over and over for the hour I lay on top of her, enjoying the sensations her body sent through mine, would make an impression, would weaken her defenses, place a small crack in what she believed, a crack I could exploit later, a crack I could use forced pleasure to tear open until her self-worth shattered under the strain.
When I figured that everyone had left I pulled reluctantly from her ass, my only consolation was that it was now time to get really serious. Zipping back up, I looked down at my victim, loving the way her asshole gaped from its use, the sheen of sweat covering her body, the way her body tensed and quivered, the tears leaking from her eyes. I figured it was worth a picture so I stepped over to the corner and pushed aside some straw and pulled out a camera and a cane. A couple of pictures later and I was ready with the cane, sliding its tip across Elisabeth's back, telling her that she should get ready to get her ass warmed up but good, enjoying the way she whined through her gag and clenched her eyes shut.
The cane was neither heavy enough or thin enough to break her skin, but it would leave a nice mark and sting quite a bit, or, if I really wanted, I could give her a welt that she would feel for a week. She jumped nicely at the first few blows across those gorgeous ass cheeks, her whole body shaking as I beat her ass and thighs methodically, leaving red stripes criss-crossing her flesh. After that it was pure, methodical punishment, my blows taking in the backs of her wonderful thighs and her ass, turning the skin a nice, ugly scarlet, my challenge to leave not a square millimeter on her skin untouched by the cane. After the first ten minutes or so of beating she was sobbing into her gag, every blow making her whole body shake. By the time I was finished, a half hour later, she was barely conscious.
Beaten, exhausted, raped, I could tell that Elisabeth had given up. Maybe if I unbound her, she would fight, but bound as she was, exposed as she was, she knew there was no hope, that I could do whatever I wanted to her and she had no recourse. I smiled down at her, stretching the arm I had used to cane her to relieve its soreness, knowing that what I was about to do now would break that resignation, would bring this beautiful, sexy woman to tears. I kneeled down beside her, my hands sliding across her beaten ass and lower back, rubbing her gently, loving the way her muscles seemed to tense and quiver involuntarily under my hands. I kept rubbing her as I moved one hand down between her legs, sliding my fingers back and forth across her slit, gently massaging it.
I didn't say a word, letting one hand run across her flesh while the other teased her sex, pushing against her clit, teasing her flesh until I started to feel a little lubrication across my fingers, pushing deeper into her flesh as it began slowly to swell. I felt my cock throb as I saw a tear slowly run across her nose and kept up my gentle assault, now speaking to her, telling her that I knew she was a tease, that I knew she would like this, that all it took was a strong man to put her in her place for her juices to start running. I laughed at her as she squirmed against my fingers, trying to get away, and sobbed into her gag, keeping up the relentless caressing of her cunt lips and of her clit, sliding my fingers through the soft folds of her pussy to press against her hardening clit, teasing it before withdrawing and doing it again, and again, and again, until I left my knuckles splitting her, pressing into her, while the tips of my fingers played across her clit.
It took forty minutes, but it was a thing of beauty, the way her sexy, sexy body trembled and shook, her face scrunching up in an expression of unwanted lust, tears coursing down her cheeks as she grunted her way through her orgasm, all the while I mocked her for being such a slut, for cumming for her rapist, her torturer.
I stood and stripped of everything except for my boots, finding my prod in the straw before pulling up the stakes binding her to the ground. She knew what I was doing, but remained still, probably afraid of what I was going to do next. She didn't even make a sound when I ripped the tape off of her mouth and slid the dildo from between her lips, my body covering hers as I whispered in her ear that my cock would be there later.
It was time to teach her true despair, to show her that, even unbound, she was nothing more than flesh to be played with, flesh that I could make respond any way I wished, from pain to pleasure.
I stood and said, "On your knees, you dirty slut," and waited while she remained motionless. I pushed the prod against her ass-cheek and watched as her whole big, sexy body bucked on the ground, a truncated scream torn from her throat.
"On your knees," I repeated myself when she had recovered, and I watched as she slowly rose to her knees, her head down, her hair shielding her face.
I kicked her in the stomach, hard, her body jerking forward, retching and coughing, her hands flashing to cover her midriff. I placed the prod against her shoulder and gave her another shock, knocking her to the ground. I kicked her a few more times before repeating myself again.
"On your knees, slut." She moaned as she rolled onto her knees and lifted her body up. "Look at me, slut," I commanded, sneering down at her as she turned her head up, her eyes sliding from mine as I took in her upturned face, puffy from crying, lips swollen from the dildo and the tape. She looked gorgeous. "Legs apart, slut," I said, sliding the tip of the prod across her belly, down toward her sex as she stared off into the distance while I used the prod to tease her swollen cunt.
"Sluts should be thankful when they are made to cum," I said. "Thank me."
That's when I saw the rage mixed with despair flash across her face, her body tense, and I waited, knowing it would come. Just as she started to surge up, unable to take the mocking abuse any more, I dropped down into her, dropping the prod, my hand striking hard across her face, knocking her off balance, my body slamming against hers, throwing her onto her back, her scream of rage filling my ears as I used my hips across her middle to pin down her twisting, fighting body, my arms inside hers deflecting the blows she tried to land, her knees thumping ineffectually on my back as I started slapping her across the face, my teeth clenched, loving the feeling of overpowering this strong, sexy woman, of riding her into the ground and physically dominating her.
She struggled and screamed for long minutes, every time she slowed I would start to strike those full, round breasts with my fists until she started fighting again, until her screaming and fighting turned into sobbing and crying, her body shaking with it. I slid down her body until I completely covered her and thrust my cock hard into her cunt, earning a despairing cry as I started raping her hard and fast, my own excitement driving me as I leaned my forearm against her neck.
"This is what you're meant for, slut," I growled, "to be used like a piece of meat. This is what all those guys that you teased want to do, to rape to, to beat you and rape you and own your slutty pussy. And you want it, slut. You want this, for all your crying and fighting. It turned you on, didn't it, didn't it, you slut? That's right, feel my cock, feel it raping you, taking you, owning you. Slut."
I reached down between us, re-angling my hips so that my fingers could find her clit, digging into it, making her body arch and tremble as I rubbed it furiously. The adrenaline from her fighting, the endorphins from her tears, her previous orgasm, had prepped her body, readied it for another betrayal, one that would be even greater for being brought about under such brutal conditions. I kept pumping into her, slamming my hips against hers, words now flowing out from me, almost randomly, since the words themselves were no longer important, only the meaning behind them, that she was a tease and a slut, that her body craved abuse, that she deserved to be raped and used, that every man who saw her sexy body wanted to use and abuse her as nothing more than a piece of meat for their cocks.
I felt my own orgasm approach even as Elisabeth's tortured, abused body began to tremble in its own orgasm, her eyes screwed tightly shut, wet with tears, her nipples hard against her soft breasts, her stomach tense with the near release, and then her cunt clamped down, pulsing around my cock, and I came, spewing myself into her fuck channel as she screamed, despair and disbelieve at the pleasure coursing through her.
Damn, it was good. It was very good. I lay on top of her for a few minutes enjoying her debasement before pulling out and standing over her. She was a sight to behold, laying raped in the dirt, her legs akimbo, her cunt a red, wet, swollen slash between her legs, her breasts bruised, her body damp with out sweat. I picked up the prod again and stood over her and started pissing, the stream striking against her stomach, soaking her body as I ran it up and down her body until I ran out while soaking her hair.
She was broken, for now, her resistance and rage conquered. I took a few pictures of her like that, beaten, and also pulled out the remote video camera, training it on her. For the rest of the night she would be on camera; my client would get his money's worth.
"Thank me for making you cum, slut," I commanded, holding the video camera on her.
"Thank you." It was weak. I pressed the prod against her breast.
"Thank you for what, slut? And speak louder."
"Thank you for making me cum." Perfect. Just perfect.
"That's a good slut. I see you've finally accepted what you are. I wonder, is your sister the same as you? Is she a slut too?" That shook her out of her stupor, brought life back into her eyes as she looked up at me, covered in piss and filth, my cum leaking from her swollen cunt.
"My...my sister? Please...she...."
"She's not as stacked as you, but she is younger, and has a nice, tight, sexy body. Is she like you, Elisabeth? Is she a teasing slut like you?"
"No! No! She's not a slut. She's not." She was begging now, on her knees.
"Well, are you a teasing slut, Elisabeth? Should I play with you some more?"
"Yes! Yes! I'm a teasing slut, I came, I came.... Oh god, you should play with me." She slid down onto her belly, crying.
"Okay, Elisabeth. Let's play." I checked my watch. We had another four hours with which to play, and I planned on making good use of the time.
Like I've said before, I enjoy degrading women, I enjoy it a lot, and on the ground, in the dirt at my feet was a sexy, broken bitch, willing to do anything to avoid future pain, but most of all to avoid me targeting her sister. I indulged myself, putting her through her paces.
I had her squirm on her belly across the stable while I kicked her ass and thighs and cunt, encouraging her to greater speed while she repeated over and over again what a lowly slut she was.
I had her ride me while I recorded her every movement, forcing her to tell me every little thing she felt as she raped herself on my cock. I made her cum like that, catching the most beautiful expression of lust and torment on her face as her body quivered through its pleasure.
I had her beg me to beat her with the cane, to shock her, to abuse her because she'd been bad, and I, of course, indulged her by beating her and shocking her while she writhed in the dirt on the ground.
I used her mouth, brutally, her jaws forced open by a ring gag, gagging her, choking her, making her retch and spit up bile while she kneeled on the ground.
I made her kneel, legs spread, and masturbate for me, using her fingers and a vibrator and a dildo, all the while telling me what a teasing slut she was and how she wanted to be raped again and again, every word, every movement caught via the wireless video camera. When she came I mocked her for her wet, needy pussy, enjoying the silent tears that coursed down her face.
For my fourth orgasm, and her fifth, I gave her a nice, loving shag, laying her on her back, my body covering hers, my cock resting comfortably within her as she wrapped her long, sexy legs around me, her hips moving in unison with mine, her breasts flattened against my chest, our bodies slipping against each other, made slippery from our sweat. My lips took hers, my tongue forcing itself into her mouth, demanding a response; my lips against her neck, her ear, my hands at her head, my body covering hers, owning her, completely possessing her. A nice, leisurely fuck to finish, making her pretend to be a lover, not caring, really, if she imaged that I were someone else, because I knew worse was to come for her. I timed her orgasm to match mine, and laughed at her for coming more times while being raped and beaten than she probably ever had before.
I might be done, well, except for the waiting and watching (the server for the video camera wasn't too far away, and I would have to retrieve it, at the latest, the next evening), but Elisabeth wasn't.
I put a leather collar with a leash on it around her neck and led her, unresisting, to be cleaned up. I then dressed her in a corset that lifted her red, bruised breasts beautifully, some very high heeled leather boots that covered her calves up to her knees, and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. Cuffs around her wrists and just above her elbow allowed me to bind her arms behind her, wrist to elbow. Back in the stable I set up a sawhorse and a card table.
Before I bound her, I gave her a few uppers to keep her going; she had been awake all night being raped, after all, and I wanted her alert for what I hoped the stable hands would be doing to her. I also reminded her that if she didn't stick to the script, I would be making a visit to her sister, and I would be pissed. If she thought one night was bad, I would keep her sister for a week, a week of my tender, loving care.
I tied her to the sawhorse, legs spread on one side, two small chains from the other side clipped to her collar pulling her completely over so that her head was only about a foot from the ground and her body formed a gorgeous 'V', her beautiful, firm ass, striped, the flesh bruised, raised high. Her breasts hung down, fat and heavy, their soft undersides exposed. I ratcheted open her mouth with a mouth spreader and wadded a cloth in her mouth before covering it with duct tape.
On the card table I placed the prod, the cane, a single large dildo, a Hitachi magic wand, some baby oil, the video camera, her clothes, nicely folded, and a letter. The letter read, "Dear sirs, do not be alarmed. My MASTER feels that I've been too much a teasing slut, and HE has decided that my punishment will be to be humiliated in one of my favorite retreats. Please do with me as you will. My MASTER commands it. Punish me. If you have any questions, ungag me and I will beg you to punish me. My MASTER has one request: in return for being allowed to use me, HIS property, please keep the video camera trained on me to record my punishment." I had had her sign it earlier "Elisabeth the cock-teasing slut".
With that I cleaned up and left. I had told my client that I couldn't guarantee results, but it was the best I could do, and I was hopeful, since the boys at the stables weren't the smartest bunch, and they were young.
As I left, I checked the server I had left half-buried and running behind the stables, glad I had purchased the extra battery, since it had to run for a while longer. Luckily, simply recording video didn't take up too much power, so I shouldn't miss anything. With that checked out, I simply walked to my car and took a nap. Raping a bitch for eight hours will tire a man out.
I awoke around noon and figured I'd check out the stables and see what was happening. I pulled up and wandered in, saying hello to a few of the stable-hands, saying I was from out of country and just liked horses. I kept an eye out and noticed a bit of activity near the back, and when I wandered that way, I was gently redirected by a couple of boys, smiling to myself. It had already been six hours or so. I wondered how long they would keep her.
After wandering about a bit I went back to my car and waited, and waited, and waited some more until I the sun started to set and I had to go somewhere less conspicuous. Around eight that evening I watched from a distance as a couple of the employees half-carried, half-dragged my sweet Elisabeth across the field and push her into her car
I had to wait a few more hours before I could retrieve the server, and it took me a few more hours before I could start editing the video that I had captured. For all the women I had raped and tortured, I have never seen another man rape a woman, or, in this case, multiple men. The most dangerous time, I knew, had been her discovery, bound like that, but I need not have worried. Two men found her, and, although the sound wasn't very good, it was clear that they were surprised, and that at least one of them had the thought to free her. The other, though, convinced him to ask her directly.
She had performed like a good, scared little whore, telling them that she was there of her own free will, at her Master's behest, and that they could do anything they liked to her teasing, slut body. Neither needed telling twice. The gag went back in and their cocks came out and, while one fucked her cunt the other played with running the camera along her body, and got some close-ups of her being fucked. The other used her ass, his friend playing with the cane, slapping different parts of Elisabeth's body, making her jerk against her bonds. When the second was done, they had a discussion of some sort and one went out while one who had taken her ass stayed and started beating her ass with the cane. Ten minutes later he was in her ass again, but this time with the prod in one hand, which he used liberally as he raped her ass for long minutes.
Just as he was about to finish another man came in, and he turned out to be my favorite--he was a sadistic bastard. Within minutes, Elisabeth's chains were unhooked, her head pulled back by her hair, her legs still bound to the horse, while the new man raped her ass and the previous man whipped her tits with the cane, hard. She looked gorgeous, her body arched, her tits bouncing under the blows, tears streaming down her face.
He took his time, and when he was done moved around to her head and removed the tape and cloth from her mouth, replacing it with his cum-covered dick. I could see him instruct the other man to take the vibrator and to use it on Elisabeth, her thighs starting to shake under the vibrator's power even as he jammed his entire cock into her mouth.
Throughout the day he would come by time and again, and each time he would up the ante. Bottles, brushes, even his fist found their way into Elisabeth's holes; he even brought a pair of pliers and twisted her nipples and clit while she screamed through her gag, men watching in rapt attention. By ten o'clock, she had taken eight men, and had been untied from the sawhorse, her arms still bound. They must have called their friends, because by noon another eight had cycled through Elisabeth, some just fucking her, some beating her, some playing more painful games with her body, and some trying to make her cum. Even with the poor video I could see that she was taking a beating, her cunt a swollen red slash between her legs, her asshole swollen and torn, her breasts and ass turning black and blue from the constant abuse.
From noon until around seven those sixteen men, and I think one or two new ones, came and went into the stable, using and abusing poor Elisabeth. Around five, when she could barely move, and merely writhed slowly and moaned with each further indignity heaped upon her body, my favorite decided to bring in a horse. Even I wondered what he was up to, but when that horse started pissing, a huge, powerful stream splashing hard against Elisabeth's unresisting body, I was impressed. No one fucked her after that, but they did cane her, and shock her, and kick her, and crush her tits beneath their boots, and grind their boots into her crotch while she screamed silently into her gag. At this point she wasn't human to them, wasn't even an animal. She was nothing but meat, sexy, abused meat with which to play. It wasn't until after the stables had shut down and most of the men had left that those who were left cleaned her up and dressed her like a rag-doll and carried her out to her car.
Needless to say, my client was very, very happy. As for Elisabeth, I have no idea what happened to her.
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