Monday, August 4, 2014

Perfunctory Execution

Lara sat glumly on the edge of her fold up bed in the austere concrete cell. Being a prisoner at Richland was far worse than she had ever thought it could be. The prison farm was the Federal Detention Center of last resort for the worst offenders, the ones that society wanted to just disappear.

Lara didn't think she was that bad; she had cut the genitals off her boyfriend with a large kitchen knife, but he had deserved it. Totally. So what if she had cooked his balls in a stew and served it for dinner that night? At least it gave the whole incident some useful purpose. Lara was shocked she had been stuck in this place.

At least she hadn't been sent to the medical wing. That was the scariest thing of all. No one came back from the medical wing.

And what was this whole, co-ed prison thing? She shared her cell with a woman, but the cell block had both men and women in it, and it was easy to see things going on in other cells; there was no privacy at all. Her second day there she had been shoved into a corner by some big black dude when they were let out for lunch. He had turned her around against the wall, yanked her regulation jeans down around her ankles and shoved himself up her cunt and fucked her while several other inmates stood by and watched. She was still sore from that encounter.

Lara was cute, there was no getting around it, and that was not an advantage in this prison. She had long brown hair, a nice oval face with smooth skin and brown eyes, and a great body. Her tits were not huge, but pretty big, big enough that guys liked to tittie fuck her and come on her face and neck at times. Her waist was slim, her thighs strong. So far her looks had gotten her raped twice by guys and forced to give some girl oral until she grunted and screamed to an orgasm.

Thing was, the guards didn't care. As long as order was kept they didn't care what the prisoners did to each other. Times were going to be tough at Richland.

A loud buzzer sounded and Lara looked up and out of the bars that covered the front of her cell. Two guards were carrying a wooden chair into the central square of the prison block, a bare concrete square with rows of cells on all four sides that was called simply "the yard".  They dropped the chair in place in the center and then left. A murmur went up from all the cells, conversations, arguments, even a couple of women could be heard crying.

"What's this? What does that stupid chair mean?" asked Lara of her cell mate Kimi.

Kimi shuddered grimly and simply said, "lottery today."

"Lottery? Like... I didn't even buy a ticket. What's going on?"

Kimi sat on her bunk and looked up at Lara with a white face, drained of all color. "Richland has limited space, Lara. When it gets full, they have to make room. They can't release anyone, so how do you think they make more room?"

"Uh, I dunno. Build more cells? Make someone sleep on the floor?" Lara stared blankly at Kimi.

"No, you idiot. They execute someone. Body removed, probably to the medical wing, someone new comes along a day later."

Lara grunted. "Huh. That's... weird. Glad I'm not on death row. Not going to get me."

Kimi sighed, "Lara, you are dumber than you look. Everybody here is on death row. No one gets out of Richland. No one misses us when we disappear. They pick a convict number out of  a bowl, and that's it. They put you in the chair, and you don't ever get up again."

Lara's eyes got big and she looked at the sturdy wooden chair. This place was fucked. Her hands shook slightly as she reached up to hold the bars. How many were in the cell block, she quickly counted up. Two levels, 4 sides on each level. 5 cells per side, that was 40 cells total. Two prisoners per cell, that was 80 prisoners in the block. Her chances were one in 80.

She turned back to Kimi. "So... someone gets to die today, huh? Don't worry about it. Won't be me. Won't be you. Just a show to watch."

"Lara, how do you think your bunk was cleared? Huh? The girl before you... she won the lottery the day before you arrived. Her name was Cheyenne."

OK, well.. that brought it closer to home. Still. Odds were with them. No biggie. Lara shrugged.

Kimi looked at her hands, and then up at Lara. "Babe... I have never said this before. But you are... well, you are really special. Really pretty. I like you."

Lara groaned... so far she hadn't had any troubles with Kimi. Kimi was a short, cute girl with dark hair in a pixie cut, and skinny. Maybe 100 lbs, tops. Nice looking with big eyes. Eyes that were looking at her meaningfully.

"Look, Lara, one of us might go today. Let's make it a nice hour or so, something to remember. Just in case, huh? There ain't nothin' worth much here except you and me and what we might make of it."


Lara looked down at Kimi. She was pretty, she had to admit. Lara was bi, though she preferred guys, but she could see doing it with Kimi. It was just... in this prison, who you hooked up with was something you had to live with because you couldn't escape the entanglements and drama.

Ten minutes later Lara was laying on her bunk, naked with legs spread while Kimi gave her the best orgasm she had had since the night Lara sliced her boyfriend's nuts off. She was shuddering, grabbing the Kimi's hair and shoving her face hard against her cunt, lifting and thrusting her hips up, her boobs bouncing from the motion, head thrown back with her mouth open, gasping. There were a couple of hoots from other prisoners watching from across the cell block, but she was out of it, completely engrossed in Kimi's magic tongue.

When she had finished, Lara returned the favor, suckling Kimi's nipples, licking her naked body and finally, spreading her cunt lips and diving in. Kimi reacted like a sex machine, grinding, enjoying, crying out, squeezing Lara's head between her thighs. She tasted sweet, and Lara found herself enjoying the sex, the first thing she had actually enjoyed in weeks, since coming to Richland. She liked Kimi.

When it was over, Lara and Kimi lay together on Kimi's bunk, legs and arms intertwined with Lara slightly on top (the bunk was quite narrow). As they lay there they heard a commotion from outside. Five guards, one of them the shift supervisor, entered the yard. Lara and Kimi, still naked, rose and went to the bars to see.

"Well, then, my lucky inmates of Richland block C, we need a bunk and it is time for the lottery!" shouted the shift supervisor, raising the bowl above him. Inside were a bunch of small slips of paper. "Shall we see who the lucky winner is today?"

Hoots, howls, cries, and shouts went up across the cell block. Kimi and Lara watched quietly. Lara found herself actually becoming nervous, her stomach churning in spite of her confidence in the odds.

"All right then ladies and gentlemen, the winning number is....." here the guard reached into the bowl, swished around, then pulled out a slip of paper. "Number.....   27785!!!! Kimi Sanchez!"

Lara took a deep breath, relief flooding over her. She had known it wasn't going to be her.

Then she felt the stiff body of her cell mate next to her. Kimi stood motionless, hands grasping the bars so tight her knuckles were white. A tear trickled down one cheek.

"Oh.... Kimi... no....oh.... I am so..." Lara didn't know what to say. She didn't need to say much because suddenly Kimi screamed and ran to the corner of the cell, cowering beneath the bunk.

Three guards had come over to the cell door and unlocked it, slid it open and entered. They brushed Lara's naked body aside, and moved to where Kimi cried and cowered, grabbing her by the arms. They lifted her small, light body up and pulled her out of the corner and dragged her from the cell as she sobbed and begged. "Please, please, don't.... please..."

The cell door clanged shut on Lara as she watched her new lover dragged to the chair. There she was quickly strapped into place with simple but effective belts. Kimi continued to struggle, her beautiful naked body exposed for all to see. The straps on her legs held them apart, so her still wet cunt was easily seen glistening between her struggling thighs. Her small but soft breasts bounced around as she struggled, her stomach tightening and rippling. Kimi's head thrashed from side to side in a panic.

With absolutely no ceremony or delay, the supervising guard stepped behind Kimi and slid a clear plastic bag over her head. Kimi's face took on a look of horror as she realized what was happening and she shook her head harder, trying to dislodge the bag. It didn't help at all.

The guard slipped a belt over Kimi's thrashing head and around her neck, tightening it. The belt was tightened enough to seal the bag, though it did not cut off the blood flow in the neck. As a result, Kimi continued to breathe the limited air sealed within the bag. The clear plastic inflated like a bubble as she breathed out, and then collapsed when she sucked in the air. The plastic would collapse until it hugged Kimi's face tightly, her lungs creating a vacuum.

The condemned girl screamed and begged, talking, babbling, asking for mercy. She was still breathing, air was flowing in and out of her lungs, but the oxygen was quickly being depleted. After about a minute of this obscene thrashing about the air inside the bag was almost completely devoid of oxygen and was taking its toll on the young girl's body. Her struggles took on a different, even more panicked style. Her head thrust back as she tried to breathe in, then she blew out as hard as she could, making the bag balloon and stretch out. She shook her head back and forth, not with an effort to dislodge the bag but with a natural frustration from the lack of real air.

Kimi looked at Lara with pleading eyes. Their naked bodies still smeared with drying body fluids, the two had established an odd connection just a few minutes before. Lara simply looked at the dying Kimi, tears in her eyes. There was nothing she could do but watch.

Other prisoners in the cell block reacted in different ways. Some of the women shuddered and looked away, hiding their eyes, covering their ears. Some laughed and jeered, relieved it was not them that was suffering in the execution chair. Some of the men had their cocks out, and were masturbating at the sight of a beautiful, naked woman strapped down and gasping for air.

Kimi's face was turning red, and then slightly purple. Her chest heaved, but then stopped momentarily, and then heaved again. Her breathing was erratic. She thrust her head back and looked at the skylights above her, sucking in useless, empty air. Her eyes lost the ability to see. Her limbs stopped their violent thrashing about, though her body continued to convulse in an attempt to receive oxygen.

A pool of liquid formed between the condemned girl's legs and began dripping onto the floor. Lara watched in horror and fascination as Kimi's body continued to try to live, though her head sagged to the side and then down. She obviously had lost consciousness.  Her body made three, four more attempt to breathe and then stopped. The plastic bag about her head remained still, no longer expanding or contracting.

Sitting limply in the chair, Kimi's naked body twitched once and then stopped moving. The guards did nothing but watch for another minute or two. Then with a nonchalant sort of uncaring demeanor, the entire group walked out of the yard, leaving Kimi's body strapped to the chair.

Silence reigned in the cell block. Lara observed the large black dude that had raped her the first week finishing off his masturbation by spewing semen out of the bars of his cell in the direction of Kimi's lifeless body.

Lara shuddered.

An hour later, a set of guards from the medical wing came and unstrapped Kimi's body, laying it on a stretcher. Other guards washed down the concrete floor of the yard, and all traces of Kimi's existence were removed.

The next day, a new prisoner arrived. A woman named Eva, convicted of murdering a gas station attendant after a spree of robberies with her boyfriend, took Kimi's bunk.

Thursday, June 19, 2014

Love of Brute: Self Bondage Gone Awry

Pain games. Edge play. Cutting. Self bondage.

The best was self bondage. Elise found great satisfaction from the thrill, the danger, the helpless feeling of being bound and unable to move. There were so few others that understood, and it was hard to just trust a guy with it. There was something about the danger in it that raised her physical awareness, made her excited and stimulated her erotically.

After a while she started riskier and riskier moves. Each time was better than the last, and drove her to try more and more unusual and exciting thrills. The current plan had been hatching in her mind for a few weeks, and she had begun the implementation a few days before.

In the woods off the back road where she had played some outdoor self bondage scenarios in the past, she had buried several glass jars with the top exposed through the dirt. Over the last two days a number of bugs had fallen into the jars and been unable to climb up the slippery glass walls to get out. She had a nice collection of nasties.

Pulling the jars out of the ground she observed her collection.  A few fire ants. Two scorpions. A stink bug. Three things that looked like roaches but had weird pincers. Several beetles, and a number of small spiders. She suspected there had been more bugs in her jars, but some bugs had eaten the others.

Placing the jars on the ground Elise took out the rubber glove. Holding the opening of the glove wide she slipped it over the top of one of the jars, turned it upside down and shook. Bugs went tumbling down from the jar into the glove.  She repeated this with each of the jars until all her captured bugs were inside the rubber glove. When she was done, the glove moved, seethed, bulged with a variety of nasty specimens, none happy with their new situation. She twisted the rubber glove's opening at the wrist and tied it off, trapping the bugs inside.

She was wearing a short skirt, important not only for access but for the sensual feeling it gave her to expose her smooth shapely legs. She thought about how much more exciting it would be if someone was there to watch what she was doing. Several guys had eyed her incredibly short skirt and legs earlier in the day, and it made her feel aroused to remember.

Elise sat on the ground with her back straight and pressed against a tree, spread her legs wide and raised her skirt. Slipping her panties down to her knees she exposed her pussy. She rubbed it a few times with her left hand, feeling the pleasure and anticipation.

Lubricating the opening to her vagina with a commercial lube, she then took the rubber glove and began pushing it up inside. She shuddered as she felt the bugs roiling and squirming inside, but the rubber protected her sensitive vaginal walls.  Surprisingly, it wasn't that easy getting the rubber glove inside. Even lubed, the thing was large, stuffed with bugs and wasn't stiff enough to get inside easily.

With some effort, Elise shoved and pushed until the rubber glove filled with the bugs and beetles was deep inside her vagina. Once again she shuddered, eyes closing and head rolling back. The feeling of having the squirming horrible things inside her vagina made her at once sick and excited. The sensation was incredible. She sat for a moment, just feeling the wriggling, rippling mass inside her most intimate part.

Next, the final phase. She needed to recapture the feeling of losing control. To be invaded by disgusting filth and to have no ability to stop it.

Elise produced a set of handcuffs, snapping one around her left wrist tight enough to be secure but not so tight as to cut off circulation. Already Elise felt her heart beating rapidly, the familiar excitement flushing her body. Combined with the revolting mix of squirming insects shoved up her vagina, she felt ready to orgasm. But no... not yet.

With her back still against the tree Elise reached her arms in back of her, bringing the wrists together. With a smooth practiced motion she snapped the other side of the handcuffs over her right wrist. As the cuff snapped into place she was secured, unable to get away. Wrists twisted behind her, arms wrapped around the tree, she sat with her back against the tree, legs splayed out in front of her, the top two buttons of her blouse undone, skirt raised high.

The key to the cuffs was in a tiny plastic bag taped to the chain that connected the right and lefts cuffs. She could reach it with some effort, but she left it in place for a while. The bugs squirmed. She squirmed. She moved her hips and felt her breathing become more rapid. A cool breeze drifted across her bare skin, reminding her of just how exposed her legs and hips were. She had shaved that morning and her legs felt cool, smooth. She felt sexy and depraved at the same time.

There was a sharp pain inside her cunt. What had happened? She gasped, and jerked against the cuffs. Her arms really were wrapped tightly against the tree trunk; there was little room to move. The pain was easing, but her arousal and excitement remained. This was one of the best games she had ever played. She wanted it to go on a bit longer.

A second sharp pain. Elise let out a short scream. One of the bugs had pinched her through the rubber. She couldn't tell exactly what had happened, but it hurt. She began to move her hands to reach the tiny plastic bag with the key. It wasn't easy, she could feel it with the tips of her fingers, but getting it free was difficult. It was supposed to be difficult; feeling helpless and defiled was part of the thrill. She twisted and moved and finally got two fingers on the plastic and began pulling.

"AAAAHHHH!!!" Elise suddenly screamed. Something had gotten through the rubber and bitten or stung her inside. She jerked as she screamed, thrusting her hips up in the air, wriggling in reaction to the pain.

At the same time her fingers jerked the plastic bag free... and then lost their grip. The key went tumbling to the ground.

In a panic accompanied by increasing stinging deep inside her cunt, Elise lowered her hands as far as they would go, scrabbling around the base of the tree, trying to find the dropped key. She was sweating now, the pain and panic getting to her. Fear mixed with arousal and ugly tickling feelings of tiny legs and pincers crawling out of a hole in the rubber, grabbing the moist wet walls of her inner vagina.

The key was gone. She tried for an hour to search, but it had fallen outside the reach of her handcuffed hands.

The bugs slowly but surely clawed and ate their way out of the rubber glove and into Elise's vagina. Finding one way out blocked by the rubber glove, the squirming insects crawled deeper inside her, biting, clawing, and stinging as they went. Elise screamed and screamed until her throat was too hoarse to scream any more. Her body writhed in obscene movements, hips thrusting high in the air and then collapsing down into the dirt. She slid her ass back and forth, spread her legs wide and pushed, trying to expel that rubber glove if she were giving birth to a hideous child.

Sweat poured down her face and body. After a while her screams subsided into sobs that slowly quieted to rasping, uneven breathing. Her legs continued to jerk and spasms contorted her body with the progress of the bugs as they ate her insides.

Elise was still alive when they found her two days later. Many of the insects were still alive, though many were dead. They carried the semi-conscious form of the teenage girl to an ambulance, and took her to a hospital.

She survived, but not entirely intact.

Thursday, May 8, 2014

Sold Into Slavery: Transport and Storage


Part One Here
Part Two Here


Mr. Hauser led Stephanie from the room. Stephanie had no idea where they were going; with the hood over her head she was completely depending on Mr. Hauser guiding her. She shivered; the air was cold and she was naked, though she hardly noticed that any more. She just knew it was cold.

They walked a short way and then halted. Stephanie had a little trouble breathing in the hood, but long slow breaths helped. Not being able to see made her feel incredibly vulnerable. With the noises in the room, there could have been several people there, observing her standing naked. She could have been in an auditorium for all she knew, with a crowd observing her. She hunched over, feeling helpless.

Mr. Hauser spoke to Stephanie. "You are to be transported to a new location for more intensive training. Please cooperate with Miss Alma; she will be dressing you an a traditional slave's training gear and then boxing you for shipment. As you know by now, disobedience or hesitation can be punished quite severely."

Stephanie's heart plunged, her stomach turned in fear. She was to be transported.. but where? And she had caught the words boxed for shipment... what did that mean??? But she nodded her head. Ideas of escape still flittered through her mind, but she knew she had to bide her time. Go along, wait until the right moment.

A woman's voice next to her, probably Alma, "I will remove your hood. If you assist me peacefully, this will go well. If you resist, the hood will go back on and I will call others to force you into your training garb."

With this, the hood was removed and Stephanie shook her head to get the mussed hair out of her face. Alma was a tall, thin, stern looking woman wearing tight leather clothing. Mr. Hauser was seated to the side, watching the process.

"Mr. Hauser", Stephanie said humbly, head bowed,  "No disrespect is meant but do you understand that I have money? I mean, in my own country, I have a lot of money and I can transfer it to --"

A stinging slap knocked Stephanie sideways; Alma had hit her with the open palm of her hand. Stephanie reeled from the blow, amazed and shocked at how powerful a simple slap could be. After gasping from the pain, a few tears trickled down and she became silent.

Alma took a large black single garment and held it in front of Stephanie. It was made of something that looked like leather, but was shinier, more supple. Stephanie obediently stepped forward, her legs sliding into the legs of the garment with some difficulty. It was too small for her. She struggled, Alma pushing and pulling until the legs were in place.

"I... I think this is too small..." Stephanie said in a small voice.

"This training garment is exactly your size. It is designed to be form fitting. Slide your arms in."

Stephanie did as instructed, pushing herself into the tight fitting black covering. The material looked like leather but stretched and conformed tightly to her body like rubber. It made her claustrophobic. It was like being wrapped in tight fitting bandages, becoming a mummy. She was clothed, but still felt naked. The material actually pressed and cut into the slit of her pussy, giving her an obvious camel toe.

"Sit here." Alma indicated a large crate marked "Fragile". Stephanie sat, the clothing moving with her movements, though still quite tight. Alma knelt before her, taking one bare foot in her hand and sliding a boot onto it. It was like no boot Stephanie had ever seen; high, laced, with a spiked heel that rose at least six inches. Her foot was forced into a pointed position, and she noticed the end of the boot was like a ballet toe shoe. The other boot went on, laces were tightened and Stephanie was told to stand.

It was almost impossible. She was standing on her toes, like she had done when in ballet at the age of 5, but the boots forced her feet into that position. She wobbled, almost fell over but steadied herself. Stephanie began crying, small tears trickling down her cheeks. What was happening to her?

Gloves were next; long black tight fitting gloves. It was a struggle getting them on they were so tight. When they finally were on and extended all the way up to her elbows, she found her fingers would only move grudgingly. The tight material resisted movement and she couldn't imagine doing anything with them. It sunk in that the impossibility of moving her fingers, there was no way she would be able to remove any part of her outfit. She was stuck inside this black leather cocoon, dependent on others now. Completely.

"Arms behind back." Alma instructed as she also grabbed and pushed Stephanie's arms behind her back.

Mr. Hauser was sitting, smoking a cigarette as she watched the process. Stephanie realized how much pleasure he was deriving from watching her slow encasement in this weird immobilizing clothing.

Alma slid some sort of material over both of Stephanie's arms, behind her back. At first it felt like a bag, or loose covering. But as it slid up it narrowed, forcing Stephanie's arms together, smashing wrists against each other, until the pliant leather cover reached her upper arms, her elbows almost touching. Stephanie gasped, the strain on her shoulders causing cramps, and she struggled briefly. It was to no avail, the device was on her arms, and Alma was quickly fastening a strap around her shoulders which prevented Stephanie from wriggling out of the tight, constraining arm binder.

But it wasn't over; Alma began tightening the laces on the arm binder, pressing her arms closer and closer together until with a moan of pain Stephanie's elbows pressed hard together. The muscles in her shoulders stretched painfully, and she whimpered a the laces of the binder were tied off and tucked away. At each step of this dressing Stephanie felt more and more helpless.

Standing now on her ballet bondage boots, Stephanie wobbled precariously. Alma led her forward to present to Mr. Hauser for approval. The man checked the fit of the clothing, checking that it was tight and smooth in all locations. Stephanie winced when he ran his fingers between her legs, checking the incredibly tight fit in her crotch which created an obvious camel toe.

"Good, Alma. I am pleased. Finish up and then get her packed for transport."

Alma produced a strange looking floppy leather bag, which appeared harmless until she stretched it out and raised it over Stephanie's head. It was a leather hood, and it was descending down toward her head. She panicked, terrified of being trapped and suffocated, and tried to get away. But she wasn't used to wearing ballet boots as yet, and it only took one step before she fell to her knees, the creases in her tight fitting, stiff clothing cutting painfully into her flesh. She cried out.

"AAaaaahhhhhh! No, please! I can't do that, I can't, I can't!"

"Of course you can," Alma said calmly, and slid the hood down over Stephanie's head.

The hood had no mouth or eye holes. It barely had breathing holes for her nostrils. It form fitted her head tightly, and buckles were pulled tight in the back that pressed the leather against Stephanie's face and head. Her hearing was muffled, and she was blind. Tears continued to flow from her eyes, pooling in tiny gaps between her flesh and the tight leather around her eye sockets. She tried to cry out, but was unable to open her mouth, the hood was so tight.

Unable to feel anything around her because of the complete and total leather covering surrounding her body, unable to hear or see because of the hood, Stephanie was shaking and terrified. Should could feel the hands on her body, though, through her clothing, as they touched her breasts, adjusted the fit of leather around her crotch, and then forced her forward. She was lifted up by strong hands and then lowered into something that had ridges form fitting certain critical points in her body.

It hurt.

Stephanie's body had been placed into the large crate which had form fitting cutouts to hold her body in place. As she lay in position slats of wood were slid into place over her, bracing and holding her in place, absolutely still. The slats held her head, chest, hips, and legs steady, preventing movement. Her legs were bent all the way back, and then secondary slats were placed over the top of her body, securing her so that she could not move.

The form fitting tight black leather writhed slightly as she breathed, sobbing, and struggled what small amount she could. The wood slats might keep her motionless during transport, but they also dug into her flesh, creating a constant dull suffering.

A lid was placed on the crate and nailed shut. Stephanie was cargo, ready to be shipped.




Time was a blur. From the motion, Stephanie suspected she was on a truck. Once or twice she thought she heard human like sounds, and wondered if her crate was being transported with other hapless women like herself.  There were stops. Movement of the crate. One long stop, which made her panic once again.

How long had it been? Days? She had peed in her suit, unable to hold it in, with the resulting irritation spreading through her crotch and thighs. Considering she had only peed once, it probably wasn't more than a few hours when the truck stopped and with a loud screeching of wood on metal her crate was dragged from the truck and dumped upright.

The crate then tilted and moved as if it was being rolled on a hand truck. She was then suddenly dropped on her side with a jolt. In the distance she could just hear someone yelling, "Hey, be careful! Thats..." and then the sound was muffled. Moments later the crate was being pried open with a crowbar.

Several rough hands lifted Stephanie out of the crate. Pain shot through her legs as they tried to stretch from their bent position and she cried out, almost screaming. There were hands all over her body now, touching, feeling, stroking. She tried to move away from them but couldn't.

Finally, she felt the straps holding her hood in place loosen and then the leather pulled off her head. She gasped for air, breathing well for the first time in hours. She couldn't see, the light was far too bright, and she squinted, blinded.

"Walk with me," said a rough man's voice next to her, as a strong hand took her arm, guiding her forward. Forced to slide forward on tip toe because of her boots, Stephanie wobbled along as best she could. When she slipped, the strong hand held her up and urged her forward. Her eyes adjusted, and she saw she was in a large wooden barn like place. Chains and heavy metal cages were scattered in various parts of the room.

"Where am I? What are you doing to me?" Stephanie was finally able to form words.

"This is a storage facility. You are being placed in storage." The rough man had several days of beard growth, a flabby face but strong arms.

"What? Why? What does that mean?"

The rough man laughed. "You will understand. Don't worry, it shouldn't be for too long, a nice pretty one like you. Let's get you undressed."

Stephanie felt her heart leap at the mention of getting the horribly restrictive and painful form fitting outfit off. As the man slowly removed her armbinder and then removed her tight fitting leather top, she thought of how much she had changed in just ... what was it, a few days?

Since coming to Malsi, she had had sex with maybe 10 men. She couldn't even keep track. There was Kevin of course, at the hotel, the first night. Then Mr. Jackson, at the business meeting. Had there been someone else then? She wondered, she couldn't remember. Then she remembered begging for men to fuck her in the breeding chamber, rather than endure the torture of tit shocks when they chose someone else. Now she was in a completely unknown place, begging to be stripped naked.

Ballet boots came off, then the leather pants. Being naked felt like such a beautiful relief, it didn't even cross her mind she was being felt up by a squalid, ugly stranger. Calloused hands ran over her perfect body, feeling her breasts and ass, finally sliding between her legs and grabbing her soft folds of flesh.

"This way," the man grunted, and pulled Stephanie over to the side of the room, pushing her toward a cage. Being confined was almost expected, but as she climbed into the cage she realized just how tiny it was. As tall as she was, it was barely wide enough for her arms.

"Oh... please... this isn't... this is too small! I won't fit! Oh My God!!!!" Stephanie suddenly panicked as the door of the cage swung shut in front of her. Not only was the cage barely wide enough for her to fit her arms in, it wasn't deep enough for her body! Stephanie was slim and healthy, but the cage door pressed hard against the front of her body, and her breasts pushed out though the cage openings. It was like a heavy metal coffin, except... well, smaller. Tighter. She was held tightly, almost motionless in the cage.

"You will do fine, dear. They all do."

"Who? Who else?" Stephanie was pleading.

"All the other girls in storage. There, there, there." The gruff man pointed to where chains descended from the ceiling down into wooden panels in the floor. At first, Stephanie struggled to comprehend. There were no other girls here. What was he talking about?

Then the man removed a wooden panel beneath her cage revealing a dark hole, and released a chain at the top of her cage, causing it to descend slowly, very slowly into the hole.  Then she understood. Storage. Other girls in storage. In cages, beneath the floor.

She was to remain in this coffin-like cage, buried in a hole in the ground in this horrible place. Stored.

Stephanie screamed. Then she began pleading, babbling. "Please, no. Please don't do this. I will die. I can't go down there, please don't make me, I will do anything, anything, please, just... don't..."

The cage stopped halfway into the hole. Stephanie looked out, eye level with the gross man's waist.

"Well... I suppose I could hold you up here for a bit. As long as you are amusing me. Gotta give me a reason to keep you above ground, ya know." The man unzipped his pants and pulled out a huge, smelly, erect cock.

Tears streamed down Stephanie's face as she opened her mouth and took the foul tasting rod into her mouth. The man pushed in and out, as her head was unable to move inside the cage. He shoved deep, as she simply held her mouth open. He pushed down her throat, causing her to gag. Every second he was inside her was time she delayed her descent into the hole. It was a fair trade.

He came. Pulsing, shoving, he dumped a load deep inside her throat. She swallowed, not even thinking about the humiliation. She no longer cared. She would do anything, anyone asked of her. But then he was done, and the cage began slowly lowering again.

"PLEASE!!!!! I did it, I will do you some more, please don't!!!!" Stephanie begged.  The man pinched her nipples as she descended, but kept lowering her down. The blackness of the hole seemed to slowly immerse her in a cold liquid, the absence of light.

"Ya know, there are spiders down there. And some other bugs, I dunno their name." The man said and then laughed as Stephanie's panic and turned to hysteria.

At last, Stephanie was all the way into the hole. The man slipped a plastic tube down through the cage, right next to her face. "That's yer feedin' tube. Whenever ya get hungry or thirsty. See ya later. Maybe."

A laugh from the man was followed by a clunking noise as the wooden cover slid over her black hole. Stephanie sobbed in the darkness, unable to move, unable to think. A small bit of light was let in through a small hole above, through which the feeding tube descended. Then the light went out and it was completely dark.

Stephanie was in storage.



Tuesday, February 18, 2014

Inquisition: Breaking on the Wheel

Olivia sat numbly in the cold stone cell, shocked and unable to understand what would happen to her very soon.  The commander had given the order the day before; it had been upheld by the local council.

Olivia was 20 years old; old enough to know better than to consort and assist the highwaymen. But she had a man. Her man was in the gang of robbers. She was with him as if he were her husband. She used her young sensual body and pretty face to get men to stop along the roads. Her man's gang did the rest, robbing and sometimes beating the traveler.

Now she was caught. The traditional, approved punishment for highwaymen? Breaking on the wheel. An agonizing, slow, public death. It was unusual for a woman to be put to death in this way, but she was considered one of the robbers, and the garrison commander had given the orders.

Last night the commander had visited her in her cell. She thought at first that he had come to tell her he had changed his mind. But instead, he simply pushed her down onto the dirt floor of the cell and tore her clothing. She struggled, but he was too strong. He forced her legs apart, positioning his body between them and then plunged his hardened member deep inside her. Once he was inside her, she went limp, accepting her fate.

The commander held her hands above her head, grunted and enjoyed her body with increasingly frantic thrusts. With a final cry, he spurt his seed inside her, then withdrew. Olivia rolled over, crying softly, believing that this ordeal, at least was over.

She was wrong. During the night several more of the garrison soldiers came to her cell, each one eager to taste the soft flesh of a young girl condemned to die the next day. Some were brutal when she struggled, slamming her against the wall. Two soldiers would hold her arms and legs wide, allowing easy access as another fucked her hard. When one was done, they would change positions, allowing another the chance to satisfy himself.

By the time the sun rose pink in the cold winter sky outside the barred window, Olivia's clothes were torn, useless and discarded. Her beautiful young body was bruised, and semen dried where it had dripped from the hole between her legs down her inner thighs.

"It is time," the heavy prison door opened and the head guard stepped in. Olivia sat staring at him blankly. He grabbed her arm and lifted her up, dragging her out of the cell to the corridor, where several other soldiers stood to escort her. She didn't know where they would take her, though she had some vague idea what would happen.

As she trudged along, one of the guards caressed her naked breast and said to another guard, "It's too bad she is going to the wheel. It has been some time since we have had a prisoner this luscious."

"Did you get to taste her last night?" the other guard asked.

"No! My wife had me trapped at home!" The guards laughed.

"Take her on the wheel, then if you want."

The guard nodded, gazing at Olivia's strong, naked, young body.

They gathered outside, on a small hill just outside the prison. A very large wagon wheel lay on the ground. Olivia stood next to it, shivering in the cold. There was snow on the ground, her feet were numb and she asked for a cloak to keep her warm. The guards laughed.

"You don't want a cloak. You want to die. As fast as possible. Trust me," said one of the guards.

They were waiting for the commander, just standing by the heavy wheel. Olivia tried to savor these last few moments of life, shaking naked in the cold winter sun.


The guard who had not had been trapped at home decided it was time to take her.  Other guards grabbed her and pulled her over the wheel, stretching her body. Olivia twisted and fought, trying to get loose. The guard revealed a huge member standing straight out from his groin, knelt between her spread legs, and shoved some snow into her womanhood to help lubricate. Olivia had never felt as violated as she did at that moment, a toy, being used while waiting for the commander to arrive.

The guard took her, tearing her delicate flesh with his size, pushing and thrusting deep inside her. Her arms and legs were pulled apart, stretched to their limit. It felt like they would pop out of their sockets, and the pain made her cry out as much as the indignity of being gang raped. It didn't take him long to grunt to a climax, which was a good thing for as he stood, the commander arrived.

"Ah, I see you have her stretched and ready. Very good. Altus, would you please begin breaking her?" The commander nodded at the soldier that normally oversaw executions.

Olivia was held above the wheel in the same position as when she had been raped, unable to move. Her arms and legs stretched over the wood beams of the wheel. Altus had a large, heavy looking length of wood in his hands. Other soldiers held her right arm carefully in place over the edge of the wheel.  Grasping the heavy club firmly, Altus raised it above his head.


Olivia screamed as the wood club whistled through the air, descending and impacting her right upper arm next to where it crossed the outside of the wheel. The bones in her arm broke, shattering with sickening crack. Her arm bent at an extremely odd angle. The pain ripped through her consciousness, and she screamed again.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!"

The soldiers continued their terrible work. Altus shifted to her left arm, positioning it over the wood spokes of the wheel. Another blow, and Olivia's left arm bend and cracked at a different angle from her right.  The pain was overpowering, Olivia continued scr


eaming, unaware of how the soldiers holding her legs were feeling up her thighs, probing the slick moistness of her womanhood.

Even with both arms broken, Olivia looked lovely laying naked on the wheel. Her breasts stood firm, rising like two hills covered in snow. Her nipples were small and hard from the cold. The soft folds of her genitals were moist and glistening from recent sex, and her flat stomach showed muscles as she screamed. She flailed and struggled, trying to get away, but to no avail. She was held down.

Attention was focused on Olivia's legs. More beautiful legs were not to be found. Smooth and soft, shapely yet strong, they struggled against the guard's grip as she writhed.

"Get the left one still. I am going to use the other wheel and roll it over her, breaking more. Come on, get that leg!" Altus was ordering, annoyed. He lifted a second wheel, smaller than the one Olivia was tied to, and held it above the poor naked twisting girl.

Olivia's left leg was held relatively motionless over the spokes and outer wheel, and Altus raised the other wheel and brought it down with a rolling motion. A dulled but audible crunch was heard as it came down on the knee, shattering the bones and separating the shin and femur. The woman's left leg now pointed the wrong way, the shin rising up instead of folding back.  The unnatural sight made a couple of the guards turn away. The wheel continued to move, rolling across her lower extremities, smashing bone as it went.

Olivia's screaming dulled somewhat and she lost bladder control. The snow below her turned yellow as Altus repositioned to the right leg. With three of her limbs now shattered, the condemned woman's struggles were subdued, though she still jerked and moved instinctively.

The sickening crunch came again as her right knee was broken.

"Hold it! There, at the ankle!" Altus barked orders.  He wasn't done.  The wheel kept rolling, breaking the shin bone, further mangling the poor woman's limbs. The upper wheel continued, rolling over and smashing her left leg.

"Almost done." Altus stopped for a rest and surveyed his work. He didn't necessarily enjoy being the executioner, though there was a certain satisfaction in seeing criminals meet their just reward. But this time, it was a remarkably beautiful woman, and the sight of her beautiful body, contrasted with her bloodied and broken limbs... well, it had it's appeal.

Altus positioned himself once again above the woman's right arm, which had slipped down between the spokes of the wheel. "Grab it. Pull it out!"

As Olivia's arm was stretched she screamed actively again; the broken bones were being pulled apart. It was the least of her pain, for the edge of the wheel descended and smashed her humerus. Olivia was able to see her arm laying on the wheel, jagged bone protruding from her flesh where the arm went off at an odd angle, and then bent again back on itself as if it were an accordion. The final blow to her left arm came, and she fainted.

Unfortunately, Olivia wasn't unconscious for long. Searing agony from her left leg greeted her, jolting her back to consciousness. The guards were pulling, yanking, bending the smashed limb into extremely unnatural angles, pushing it up toward her body, under a spoke of the wheel. They threaded the unnaturally flexible limb under and over two of the spokes.

Olivia had continued to attempt thrashing around, what else could she do? Her limbs were a smashed, pulpy mess, but her body was intact. She still breathed, screamed, could see the sky, and smell the blood and sweat.

Her right leg was also twisted and jammed between the spokes. Thrashing about ceased to be an option. Olivia no longer had the strength, and her lower limbs were secured to the wheel, threaded in place. Movement just pulled the bones and caused them to cut through more flesh. The pain weakened her now to where she offered no resistance as her arms were threaded through spokes.

Panting in agony, Olivia lay on the wheel, firmly woven into the gaps of the wheel. She no longer looked real; she had taken on the appearance of a broken doll. Her face and body were still beautiful, laying motionless on the center of the great wagon wheel.

They lifted the wheel up then; she was raised into the sky. The wheel was placed on a post so that Olivia suffered above those who gather to see her. She lay on the wheel, not able to move, though her moans and pleadings continued throughout the day.

Breaking on the wheel was a warning. As many as could were bidden to come see and observe the sufferings of the girl who had dared become a highwayman. All marveled at the obvious and continuing agony during the day.

The blood and meat of Olivia's smashed limbs attracted carrion birds who circled above at first. She was actually able to see them gliding above, looking at her. She lay in her world of pain, sometimes crying, sometimes pleading for death.  Late in the afternoon, the birds landed on the wheel and began pecking. She lived, but she was slowly turned into food.

Olivia was still alive, laying on the wheel, the next morning. Some of the flesh around her broken bones was pecked clean, and one bird had tried to peck out an eye. Yet, she still lived, laying motionless above the main road on which she had lured travelers just the week before.

Two days passed before the commander ordered the coup de grĂ¢ce. Altus the executioner took the heavy club and brought it down hard on the chest of the suffering woman, breaking her sternum and ribs which penetrated her heart and lungs. Barely 5 minutes later she was dead.

They left Olivia on the wheel by the road for a month after she died. The warning worked, for a while. The highwaymen left the area, moving away, or finding some other way of making money.