Friday, July 23, 2010

Miss Brown Gets a Spanking

misThe visit to Idaho Falls was turning sour. This enclave was a little strange, to say the least. Standing in the courtroom downtown, it felt as if I was being railroaded in some southern state.

So they had caught me. I had actually violated the sexual awareness act, which called for proactive understanding of all forms of sexuality. I didn't have my Transgender Experience Certificate. I mean... what the fuck? I had duly gotten my Queer Certificate (which had led to a 3 month affair), my Age Diversity Certificate (why it only applied to women I will never know), and my Kink and Fetish Certificate (which had resulted in a consistent thing for leather).

I figured I would get 30 days. Or maybe just a public humiliation and disgrace sentence. When the judge announced that I was to receive a spanking... well, that was just weird.

OK, weird but not too worrisome. I had been whipped and caned to within an inch of my life, and incarcerated in a level 3 prison. I had been a human cow in the Caribbean. So a spanking seemed rather... light as a sentence. In fact I kind of looked forward to it, in a way.

Apparently Idaho Falls was a very humane town. They prided themselves at providing every prisoner with a private cell, and their food was certainly better than many of the places I had eaten while driving across the United States. I needed to get back to my teaching job (High School), but how long can a spanking take?

It was scheduled for next morning. I figured I might be on the road, heading back, by 3 or 4 in the afternoon.

None of that wonderful food. When I rang for the guard and asked where my dinner was, she said that it was not usual to feed the prisoners the night before a spanking.


Awakened at 7am the next morning by a man wearing a white lab coat, I was grumpier than usual. Tired and hungry, I asked the guy what he was there for. "I am here to take you to the corporal punishment facility to prep you for your spanking. Are you ready?"

Oh sure, I was ready. The earlier the better. I wanted to get something to eat, and get out of that town. They put some chains on my ankles, effectively hobbling me. In addition, a waist chain provided a place to secure my wrists to each side, preventing much movement there either. I shuffled down the hall slowly behind the punishment technician. Going down the stairs to a basement hall, we passed several rooms. From one of the rooms there was a slow but quiet sound going on, a kind of motor sound mixed with the sounds of a woman crying. I began to get a little nervous.

We entered a small, brightly lit room that looked like a doctor's office, except there was a lot more bizarre equipment than a doctor would have. Not to mention the leather restraints on the examining couch.

"What are we doing here?" I asked the technician. I noticed he was young, and cute. I hoped he was the one that would spank me.

"Well, we are going to prep you here. Idaho Falls has a very proud tradition of only using the most modern techniques and corporal punishment methodologies. We don't subscribe to some of the disgusting and tortuous practices that you see in some regions." He smiled and fastened a locked collar to a chain hanging from the ceiling. "OK, go ahead and strip."

"Uh... is that necessary?"

"Oh yes. It is part of our safety regulations. As well as enhancing the whole humiliation aspect of spanking. Its a way of adding a very humanistic touch to the whole concept of corporal punishment. Off with it now!"

I unzipped the orange prison jump suit and stepped out of it. If I am honest, I admit that I have a pretty good body and the reaction out of the tech was predictable. His eyes glued to my bust as I took off my bra, and then slid to my pussy as I took my panties off.

Guiding my naked ass to the exam table, he proceeded to strap me into place. It was a lot like a gyno exam chair, with stirrups that were unusually sturdy and had straps for ankles, knees and upper thighs. Another strap around my waist, an several on my arms. The final ones extended across my chest and neck. I can't remember being secured more tightly or being less able to move (except for when I was getting my Kink Certificate, of course).

The tech produced an enema bag with a large inflatable nozzle at the end of the rubber hose. I was taken aback. "What is this?"

"Well, the primary thing we do with spankings is an enema. It helps keep things clean. Here in Idaho Falls, we pride ourselves on the best and most hygienic corporal punishment regimen." The tech proceeded to fill the enema bag with warm water, and then hooked it to a small pole next to me.

"What... do people shit themselves during spankings???" I asked, my nerves beginning to jangle, wondering what I had gotten into.

"Oh no, no, no. Never. We always do an enema first. Its recommended by the manufacturer."

"What manufacturer?" This guy thought I knew all about his job and assumed I knew exactly what was going on, just like a doctor.

"Of the spanking machine, of course! Here in Idaho Falls, we only use the most modern and effective equipment and techniques."

I sank back and didn't speak for a while as the man slid the nozzle up my ass and inflated it. He took time to fondle my pussy. Oh my god... it actually felt good. Until he unclipped the nozzle, that is. As the water surged in, I grunted in pain of peristalsis. The water flow seemed to take hours, though I think it was only about 10 minutes. My belly began to distend, ruining the nice flat appearance I worked endless hours at the gym to maintain.

When the flow finally stopped, the tech pressed a button which raised the head of the exam couch, so that I was nearly upright. The pain of excess shit in my bowels really took hold, and I moaned loudly. "Don't worry," he said brightly, once again fondling my pussy. "We will drain you now."

"Oh... shit!" I said as another wave of pain took me.

"Well, yes! Actually!" The tech was preternaturally perky. I think he enjoyed his job way too much.

The inflated nozzle collapsed and the pressure inside my bowels suddenly released as the contents squirted out. It was such a relief! I tensed an pushed my stomach muscles, pressing the clumps of shit and water out through my ass as fast as it would go. There was some sort of bucket or container below my ass, and I could hear the contents of my abdomen filling it with a metal reverberation, and then sickening splashes and thuds as it began to fill.

The procedure complete, the tech (with whom I was beginning to fall in love), wiped my ass with a clean cloth and then with another cloth, wiped my pussy. His lingering ministrations felt wonderful. The relief of bowel expulsion, together with his stimulation of my clit (yes, he spent time there as well), almost made me come.

Finally, he unstrapped me, took the collar chain and unlocked the chain from the ceiling. Using the chain he led me on my shaky legs back down the hall to the room that was still emanating the sounds of a motor and the sobs of a woman. Opening the door, I walked in and saw what was to happen to me for the first time. The revelation was... well... revealing. And intimidating. I almost fainted.

There were two pieces of equipment in the room. The both faced the far wall, which had a large one way mirror embedded in it. It was clear that observers would come and view the punishment that took place in the room, which was painted a pristine white and was very brightly lit with spotlights from several angles.

One of the two pieces of equipment was in use, with a young girl about about 18 or 19 with long brown hair in a pony tail, strapped in place as the machine gave her a spanking. Her neck was in a heavy stock, with both wrists secured through the same stock on either side of her head. Her feet were secured in a similar stock, locked in place and positioned about 2 feet apart, allowing her to stand all right but creating enough of a separation that the observers behind the mirror would see her between her legs clearly.

The top stock which secured her neck and wrists was constantly moving. First up, making the girl stand upright, and then down, pushing her into a half kneeling position with her ass sticking out behind her. At just the point where her descent ceased and her ass was fully protruding out the back, a large paddle on a spring was suddenly released and *swat* struck her ass cheeks with a sudden and forceful stroke. The paddle was surfaced with rubber which sported a pattern. The pattern could be seen on her ass cheeks as a kind of patterned bruise. Her ass alternated as a ripple of color from red, to purple and then to black, and then back to red in small streaks.

The poor girl was sobbing, the sobs broken by an occasional gasp as the sudden stroke of the paddle hit her. It looked incredibly painful. Not to mention completely and totally humiliating. I felt such sympathy for her at that moment. I shouldn't have bothered, as I was about to experience the same thing she was going through.

I thought of running for a moment, but realized we were deep underground, underneath the city hall. Getting through the locked doors, up the stairs, through the jail section above... naked... well, it wasn't to be. Its better to grit your teeth and get through it, from my experience.

He guided me to the back of the empty machine. I shuffled forward until my ankles were placed against the half circle on the wooden brace at the bottom of the machine. The tech slid another piece of wood behind my ankles, and snapped it into place. With that easy snap, my ankles were secured in place.

The machine was turned on, but just for a moment, to bring the top wooden bracket into place. My neck was pressed into the half circle cut in the wood, and pressed against it. With another slide and snap, my head was bracketed in place at the top of the machine.

Strangely, my arms were still free. Until, that is, I felt the soft leather of a monoglove (armbinder) being pulled up and around my arms in back. "Hey! I thought my arms were secured up above! What is going on?"

"Well, dear. We have had some problems with the wrist restraints in this machine. A lot of excess splinters. Not good. After several hours, you could get pretty torn up, blood everywhere... it doesn't look good at all. And here in Idaho Falls, we pride ourselves on keeping equipment in top shape for the safety and long term comfort of our detainees."

He was lacing up the armbinder as he spoke. It was a tight one, tight enough my elbows touched, creating some cramping. I wriggled a little to get comfortable, but stopped, realizing that there was no comfort to be found in this situation. It was getting worse and worse. Then it dawned on me.

"Hours???? How long is this spanking, anyway???" I almost screamed out. Panic had hit me hard, but it was too late. I was already locked into this infernal machine, naked and exposed to anyone who happen to have access to the room behind the one way mirror.

"Well... let me see. I think for you it is a six hour stint. Bella over there has been in for three. She is due for a break in another three hours. We treat all our prisoners with respect and concern for their health here in Idaho Falls." The last tightening of the armbinder seemed to squeeze the last of the blood from my arms. I think it was just about then that I started to cry. The constant sobbing from "Bella" next to me, the incredibly tight restraint my body was experiencing, and the new knowledge of just how horrible the spanking was to be caught up with me. Tears trickled down my cheeks.

My monogloved arms were pulled up behind me slightly. I could tell the ring at the end was being hooked to some rope or strap which elevated them slightly, causing more cramping. I began to realize that Idaho Falls was very efficient and up to date and a very sadistic community. It was the wrong place to get caught with a simple misdemeanor. Like not having sex with a tranny and getting my Transgender Certificate.

The Torture Technician, as I know realized he was... nuzzled behind my left ear just a little, and then flipped a switch. The machine I was attached to ground up to life, and began a relentless, slow motion. My neck was pulled up slightly, and then the bracket pushed my neck and shoulders down. As I descended, my ass was forced out behind me. My position took on the look and feel of someone kneeling half over. My knees were bent at about a 45 degree angle. When I hit the bottom of the cycle, the machine held me in place for a moment, and then I felt the first swat.

I screamed.

The paddle seemed huge, covering both ass cheeks and wrapping around my hips slightly. It was wide, stinging from my lower back to the crack where my thighs met my ass. The force of the slap was unexpected, harder than any spanking a human hand could ever deliver. The sting felt like a jellyfish welt, and penetrated. My entire lower body, from my ass to the small amount of flesh I have on my waist, to my thighs, to my vulva, all shuddered and vibrated from the blow.

As the machine raised me up into the standing position, the sting continued. I breathed hard at the top position, trying to regain my composure. The second time I descended, I realized as I went down that my armbinder was being pulled up, getting my arms out of the way for the paddle, and straining them upward in a form of strappado.


The paddle hit me again, harder it seemed. I didn't scream this time, but grunted loudly. Up I went again, pressure relieved from my arms behind me, as they returned to a slightly normal position. I took deep breaths, telling myself I had been through worse... much worse... until the descent and my arms were pulled up behind me, and as I was forced to squat once again... the paddle hit me and I absolutely writhed in pain.

The soulless nature of this machine, continuously and constantly moving my body up and down, automatically doling out the stinging, pain filled, agonizing slaps from the huge paddle... it was dehumanizing in a way I could not grip with my mind. I had become a part of the machine. I had become an object.


I began timing the length between the descents. About 7 seconds. How many had there been? I wasn't counting but the number was building up. 20, 30 maybe. My ass was burning now, on fire constantly. Each new impact poured just a little more fuel on the fire. I began to plead.

"Please, please don't do this. I think I might go insane... I can't take it. Please release me. I will do anything, anything..."

The Torture Tech was nowhere to be seen. He might have been behind me, but somehow I didn't think so. His reflection didn't appear in the mirror before me. The mirror behind which there were an unknown number of people watching me suffer.

It was hard to concentrate, but I began to realize that the mirror was there to increase the humiliation and pain experience as well as provide a shield to the watchers. I could see myself, clearly, my body being forced down into an uncomfortable half kneeling position; my legs bent slightly outward when I was at the bottom, making my pussy clearly visible. My breasts jiggled with each stroke, and I could see the look of agony on my face, which was covered with wetness from tears.

All at once I became aware of Bella once again. She and I were the only things I could see in the room. Everything else was white, almost blindingly bright. She looked worse than I, her face had taken on the look of something no longer intelligent. She still grunted, screamed, cried out, and sobbed, but it seemed more like the reactions of a lunatic, or a dog that had been hit by a car but wasn't dead yet.

Our cries and sobbing made a sort of symphony of pain. I didn't want to participate. I stopped myself from crying. I couldn't stop from grunting from the impacts, but if I could just stop crying and begging...

I realized that I had begun crying again. I babbled, begged, grunted, screamed as loud as I could from the pain, which was swathing my entire lower body, from my lower chest down to my knees. My back was also cramping, the constant up and down of my bound arms creating a constant, ever increasing cramp across my shoulders... and now chest.


Thoughtlessly, mechanically, the brutal spanking continued. How long had I been there? Why didn't they have a clock in the room? Because the didn't want us to know... it might give strength, give us something to focus on. Instead, I floated in a sea of pain, and began to think there was no time, just pain that would go on and on...


Was it just me, or was the paddle descending lower? I had lost most feeling in my ass, which now felt a constant, agonizing pain. But there was one point, just below the ass, where the paddle was stinging in a fresh way. Yes... very slowly, the paddle was moving down the back of my thighs. "FFFUUUUCCCCKKKK" I cried in despair... one of may pleas or mindless expression that I was uttering...


I couldn't take this any more. I was going to die. I could see why they had given me an enema. I surely would have lost it by now. I realized I had lost bladder control, and urine had seeped down and covered my legs. I tried counting again. I got up to 100 and then lost the ability to count.

It was the constant, mindless, incessant nature of the spanking that began to get to me. There was no begging to the machine. I watched my naked form going up and down, rattling as each stroke was delivered, the look of agony on my face, my cunt even wobbling to the strokes.


I was having trouble breathing. I was having trouble standing and supporting myself. That meant I was hanging from my neck and head in the bracket, and that made it harder to breathe. I was being hung, not with a hangman's noose, but with the hard wood of the spanking machine. I just needed to stand... and I did. For a couple of cycles, and then felt my legs give way again.

Bella wasn't there any more. Was she dead? Had someone taken her? In my brain, I knew she must have been taken. I had glanced over to her, at first noting her perfect 18 year old body, later to simply see what I might be like in a few hours. She was gone now. I hope she hadn't died.

The technician stepped in front of me. Oh, thank god, a human being. I pleaded, begged, offered anything. I kept going up to the strangle, and then down to the searing strike from the paddle. He was saying something. What?

"I can't turn the machine off, but I can turn the paddle off for a while. If you ask." What was he saying? What did he mean? It didn't matter, he talked, and I just nodded and begged.

The paddle stopped. The pain didn't go away, my ass and thighs simply burned as I rose up and down, my entire body being manipulated by the machine. Then I felt something...

Something in my pussy.

Fingers, exploring me inside. Each time I descended and stuck my ass out, his fingers slid in. They went in remarkably easy.

Lube. OMG he was lubing me.

Then his cock. Thicker, fatter than his fingers. I descended and sat on his cock. He was behind me, fucking me, impaling me with his cock each time I went down. Sliding out each time I was pulled up.

Up and down... in and out. I didn't care. I was no longer paddled. The burning had started, very slowly, to get better. He fingered my ass as his cock dived deep inside me. My arms and back hurt horribly, but I concentrated on how my ass and legs were beginning to feel better. His fingers inside my ass felt good. He was lubing my ass, generously.

He wasn't inside me any more. Strange. But then... I descended and sat on his cock, sliding into my ass. I could see him behind me, in the mirror. He had his pants down, and hips thrust forward, accepting the forced offering of my body sliding up and down on his cock. I was panting, hair wild, my breasts bobbing slowly up and down.

It was worth it, though the exhaustion of being moved up and down was almost unbearable.

He continued thrusting, matching his thrusts with the motion of my body in the machine.

He came.

With a single huge thrust, and agonized look on his face, I felt him convulse and dump his load inside my ass. As I was pulled up by the machine, he slipped out and stepped back. I continued to slide up and down, moving as my shoulders were pressed and then my neck pulled.


Oh My God... the machine had started to paddle me again. The burning sensation came back immediately, I was on fire and nothing would stop it. I screamed, loudly, forever, until all the breath was forced from my lungs. I took another deep breath and screamed again. I continued screaming until I couldn't any more. Then I begged in a raspy, halting voice.

"Please... please fuck me... please fuck me again..."

"I can't dear. Not for a while at least. I spurt my load and can't do it again right away. Do you want me to find someone else?"

I didn't think twice. "Please... aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhh.... please, anyone. anyone to fuck me please please pleaase pleaaasseee.... aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagggggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhh"

He left the room. I forgot everything and just watch myself scream in the mirror.

Hours, days later, he returned with another man, a guy dressed in a suit but with no tie. His jack was off. I was groaning and grunting as I went up and down.

Wait... this guy... it was the judge that had sentenced me...

It didn't matter. He dropped his pants and the spanking stopped. Moments later he was inside of me, as I was forced down onto his cock. His cock was long, very long and the tip pressed into my cervix when I was forced all the way down. He didn't slip out at the top. I was simply fucking him, forced on him, like some complicated organic masturbation device.

His arms reached around me, and fingered my clit. What a horrible feeling, the torture and the pleasure, the mindlessness of lost reason as he stimulated me, and stimulated himself. Agony... orgasm...

Yes, orgasm. I came. Hard. He did too, dumping his load inside me, deep inside. His cock was pressing hard against my cervix when he spurt. He grunted, moaned and kept coming as I raised and lowered on top of him a few more times. Finally he slipped out, zipped up, slapped the technician on the back and left.

The paddles started again.


up... choke....



Over and over again....

When the machine stopped and the wooden stocks unclipped, and I was released, I simply collapsed of the floor. I no longer cried, though I did vomit. Several times. A hose was produced and I was washed down.

A gurney was brought in and I was lifted on to it. Rolled down to another room deep in the basement, I was given an IV. I lay on my side, unable to move. The next day I managed to catch a glimpse of my ass, which was almost completely black and purple.

It took 4 days to recover until they released me. I found it hard to drive because I couldn't sit for more than an hour. It took another 10 days to get home.

Get all your sexual awareness certs, whether you like trannies or not.

Monday, July 5, 2010

Inquisition: Lead Sprinkler

In our last city, Nuremberg, I had commissioned and received a special device, made to my specifications. This device was based on one observed in use in Madrid; simple enough to make and easy to use, it looked like a child's toy. A small sphere had several holes punched in it, and was attached to a handle. Eager to try this new device, we traveled to the next city where we were expected.

Our arrival in the city of Munich was made pleasant by the outreach of the Bishop, who had heard that we would be visiting and made kind preparations. We stayed in the home of a local businessman, who had offered several rooms to my master and myself. Gratified, we looked forward to the business at hand, the interrogation of several women arrested for apostasy, witchery and sapphic abomination.

Entering, our senses were assaulted by darkness, the smell of smoke and urine, and mindless screams echoing the hall from some distant room. The jailer, a short hairy man who looked black from soot and smelled bad, led us down the hall to a door. His keys opened the heavy wooden door and revealed a dark stone room with several women, each chained or secured in some way. One of the women was naked, the others wore their shifts or dresses.

Two women were secured to stocks by wrists and ankles. The position was excruciatingly uncomfortable, as the stocks held them in a bent position, sitting on a hard floor unable to move or adjust. I knew from their use before that a numbing ache occurred in the buttocks, as well as cramping in the back, arms and legs. Prolonged use of these stocks reduced prisoners to a sobbing, cooperative mush.

I chose the clothed woman in the stocks. Her fair face attracted me at once as being fair and open, and her clothing appeared to conceal a delightful body. The stocks were unlocked, and when she was freed she attempted to stand but fell down instead. The muscles in her legs would no longer hold her upright. The jailer and I each took one arm, and dragged her to a room next door that was better equipped for my purpose.

As she was dragged, she began to beg for mercy, aware of what awaited her. She promised the delights of the flesh, willing cooperation and pleasure of her body. The demon in her was persistent, and her voice smooth and inviting. She had a young face but womanly curves, smooth skin and delightful brunette tresses that clung to her sweaty neck and shoulders. I felt the stirrings of arousal inside me, and resolved to resist the witch's spell.

Inside the windowless stone chamber, two torches flickered and smoke hung heavy in the air. The room smelled pungently of human suffering, mixed with urine, feces, blood and hot iron. To the side was a stone pot, which had been heating with a fire below it for some time.

As we tied the woman's wrists together she began to struggle, turning from enticement to threats. She warned us that hurting her would avail us nothing, and that her demon familiars would wreak vengeance on us. If I had not been steeled for her punishment before, I was then. This witch needed to suffer, to have the demon cast from her. She would probably die in the process, but she chose this fate when she first allied herself with dark evil.

Her wrists were tied tightly with a rope hanging from the ceiling, which in turn was pulled. Her hands took on claw shapes due to the very tight constriction as she was lifted high. Her body stretched as she rose until she dangled above the ground, toes swinging about a foot off the floor. Secured there, we began the process of disrobing her.

The witch's eyes grew large at the sight of my knife, as it approached her breasts. She began to scream, thinking that I was going to cut her. I let her feel the cold steel of the knife, and ran the flat across her wet chest. But instead of cutting her I sliced through her bodice, from between her breasts down to her waist. As the cloth parted and fell her breasts hung free, visible for the first time. Her cries reduced to sobs as I cut through her sleeves and the bodice fell away from her. I threw the rags into a corner, and observed the woman hanging before me.

Her breasts were well formed, large and round with nipples that jutted out. Hanging by her wrists as she was, the flesh of her body was pulled up, emphasizing the ripples of her ribs and lifting her breasts which heaved slightly as she cried. Her stomach was flat in this position, though it pulsed in and out with her rapid breathing and sobs.

Another quick tear with the assistance of my knife, and her skirt fell free, exposing her hips and legs. Fine, muscular legs that shone sweaty in the torchlight, and kicked as she swung from above. As she kicked she revealed her womanhood, further arousing me with her wickedness.

The jailer brought a heavy metal bar with shackles to hold and spread her feet apart. Once attached, she stopped kicking, and simply hung, her head forward and long dark hair spread across her breasts. Reaching out, I touched between her thighs, sliding my hand up until fingers met with soft folds. I spread the lips of her womanhood and explored her insides as she sobbed, unable to resist me.

Thinking to add to her discomfort, I attached a heavy rope to her ankle bar, and threw the rope over a ceiling beam. Pulling a little at a time, I lifted her legs higher and wrists lower until she was inverted, hanging by her spread legs. This fine woman hung before me, crying softly, body stretched by its own weight. Her hair hung below her and brushed the dirt of the ground. She was suffering, secured and hung upside down, but her suffering was small.

Moving to the heated stone bowl to the side, I produced the lead sprinkler. The bowl held the hot, viscous melted lead. Carefully, I filled the sprinkler with the semi-fluid. It would remain hot for a little while, long enough to do the job.

As if imparting the blessing of holy water, I shook the sprinkler before the woman's naked body. Small droplets and spatter came from the holes and landed on her bare skin. Instantly, she screamed louder and with a more panicked emotion than before. Her body writhed, straining against her bonds. All across her stomach small spots of black formed, and a low sizzling hinted at the burning that was taking place. The drops of molten lead were searing her flesh.

Shaking again, higher this time, the lead flew and spattered against her womanhood and inner thighs. The witch's screams continued, stronger, and her body writhed instinctively, trying to get away from the soft, burning metal that now adhered to her flesh. The molten metal stuck and burned into her flesh where ever it landed, and while writhing and jerking did nothing to remove the deep burning taking place, she struggled valiantly. The smell of burned flesh began to fill the room and joined the smell of hot metal.

Shaking again and again, the searing pain of molten metal drops spread across the woman's naked skin. The burned spots could easily be seen. In some cases, the blackened spots emitted wisps of smoke. Her body struggled, hair sliding back and forth in the dirt below, legs and knees jerking and straining in the shackles that held her. The weight of her own body kept her taught, spread for me as I shook the sprinkler again and again, spreading pain throughout every inch of her skin.

Screams continued to sound and echo in the room, and I am sure were heard throughout the prison. A few minutes into the administration, I could tell she was tiring but could not stop screaming. Each new application of molten metal brought instant and renewed struggles. Finally, the screams ceased and examination showed her tongue protruding and eyes partially closed. She had lost consciousness.

A bucket of water was splashed over the witch's inverted form, cooling the burned spots temporarily and bringing her to her senses once again. She sobbed, and found her voice enough to beg for mercy once again. As the air in the chamber had become so filled with smoke it was hardly fit to breathe, I stepped outside for a short walk. When I returned, the sight of the inverted form of the suspended woman aroused my determination to once again drive the demons out of her.

My own arousal was evident to me, and I knew the witch was trying her best to seduce me as a last attempt to stop the punishment. Touching my own male member, I could feel its throbbing hardness and how desperately I wanted to enter and take this woman for my own. However, I remembered my duty, and instead turned toward the work at hand.

Filling the sprinkler once again, I approached the woman's spread legs. Her exposed genitals shook before me, slightly wet from the sweat that trickled down her legs. I spread the lips, examining her in detail, looking deep within the body she had used to seduce other women. Slowly, I took the sprinkler and raised it above her and then rolled it to encourage the dripping of molten lead onto the flesh of her womanhood.

The thick, viscous metal dripped inside of her body, deep within her woman's hole. The shaking of her body quickly became a jerking, as if from a convulsion or the possession of an evil spirit. Realizing that the demon was finally being thrust from her, I increased the ministrations, pouring more molten metal into the fleshy opening of her sex. Her screams began to become choked, and looking down I saw that she had vomited. In this inverted position, some of the vomit had slid down into her nose and back into her lungs, causing her internal distress. Encouraged by this desire to expel the unclean from inside of her, I began dripping more lead directly into her anus, where the sizzling and smoke of burning flesh were clearly visible.

Urine covered the woman's body, and vomit pooled on the floor as I stepped back to see if she was ready to recant now that the demon had left her body. She hung there, motionless.

No sign of life was seen. Her body took on a kind of peaceful quiet as it hung in the torchlight, as if her soul was at peace now that the trial by fire and escape of the demon was complete. She was dead, but in that death had escaped from the evil that had controlled her.

I left the chamber, and returned to my lodgings for a well deserved respite from the work of the day.