11. TOTAL SUBMISSION. free porn video

11. TOTAL SUBMISSION.
A snuff by consent story, reissued by special request in memory of the lady it was built round and who “vanished” just after this was originally issued.
Warning if you don’t like terminal BDSM, leave now
She had had a rough life really, she had been orphaned in her early teens, distant family didn’t want to know, so she had been in local authority care till she was too old for them but by then she had learnt to use her body for both pleasure and gain.
She was no shapely blond bimbo; she was a brown haired, 5foot 6 inch, wiry, street wise woman with small but attractive tits, few inhibitions and a slewed slant on life. She had few untried sexual deviations, having lost her virginity to the home warden at 13; she had found herself allowing the other inmates use of her body in return for either money or favours of one sort or another,
That led to her pregnancy at just fifteen and the birth of a boy c***d on her sixteenth Birthday who was unfortunately a Mongol, the c***d being taken into local authority care almost immediately she sadly having no say in the matter. Later the sex scene had kept her alive and if not rich it had fed her, housed and clothed her. The result of all this was a hard-headed woman of 22 with little self respect, a strong determination and a chip on her shoulder a mile wide.
She had grown to love pain, including self harm, feeling that she needed to be punished heavily, though for what she really had no definite idea.
She had avoided d**gs or alcohol abuse, having seen others go down that road she felt that way led to a woman not being in control, and she very much needed to be “in control” especially of her own punishment and ultimate demise. She in short wished to be used and ultimately to commit suicide, but not just to end her life in some pill taking or a jump from a cliff. She wanted more, she planned to make both money and a statement, to die in such a way that she could leave something not for her-self but for her son as she felt it was all she could do for him, distanced as she was from contact, she also wanted to help the plight of other youngsters in care.
That was why she was here today in Mike Bottomleys `s office negotiating to take part in one of his porn movies, Her friend, one time inmate of the authority home, and her part time lover Simon, working now as her solicitor, sat beside her slowly finalising her wishes into the contract for her. Every tiny detail had been scrutinised as neither he nor Mike wanting to spend time behind bars and he wanted the best for his sometimes partner.
Like any business meeting it was quiet, to the point and sincere but with one enormous difference, it was to be one that would include her death and with no special effect trickery either, it was to be a snuff movie to end all snuff movies, in which she knew she would die screaming and in agony after a lot of painful abuse.
They all knew the film would never see the local cinemas, nor even on the porn channels, no this would be for just a few very rich clients who Mike had contacted already, not for them vanilla suck and fuck movies, they were out and out sadists who would pay way over the top amounts to enjoy in some sick perverted way a woman`s pain and death.
She had nicknamed them the saddies and only knew them as numbers one to six each individually each not knowing any of the others and spread to all corners of the earth. Mike had sent out to each of them a set of three short film clips she had made, one sitting fully dressed talking about her-self, a short stripping film and one hung securely, naked and being whipped very hard, so they would know the lady they were wishing to snuff and that she had a high pain threshold.
She knew they would not allow it to be a comfortable death, sadists don’t pay for that but knowing the amounts of cash involved for her son Peter`s forthcoming life she was contracting to give herself willingly to there every whim.
The actual contract was with Mike; there would be just eight copies of the final film, one for each of the six Saddies, one for mike and one for Simon who at her request had promised he would show it to Peter if he ever became mature enough to ask about his mother and how she had obtained this mega wealth for him.
Each of the men had now sent in his ideas as to how she be bound and tormented as the final act was too be preceded by an agreed two whole hours of painful torture composed of their instructions edited and coordinated by Mike, it was to include sex with many folk including both Mike and Simon.
The saddies had wanted longer but she had negotiated it down to two hours though in return she now could not refuse any scenario they suggested she would know of these beforehand and that was part of today`s briefing, Mike presenting his script.
The climax of the film, her final demise would be chosen by her picking a numbered envelope from a hat as she left today. This was so that he could supply the necessary equipment to carry out their wishes, her drawing of the envelope signifying she accepted their terms, though until she presented herself to the set she could walk away all bets off, payment being withheld till she arrived on set and then being transferred to her account once the set was secured.
A doctor would be present to certify death and then they would take her body for disposal without fuss.
Only Mike knew of the six methods of snuffing picked by the sponsors, though she would know of the six methods a list being provided, they were not negotiable. They had not set any time limit for that final act, it could be short and sudden, or it could be stretched over many hours, she did not expect any mercy and knew once the day started none would be given.
Mike had printed the methods out singularly and sealed them into six blank envelopes then shuffled them at random.
She would not get to know the method of her demise until it was announced to her one hour after the beginning of her pain. Her executioner and the camera man were to be supplied by Mike, who explained, that they both had carried out their roles before and would wear hoods.
The date was set at a fortnight away to give Mike chance to get his side covered and the set arranged they concluded the meeting shaking hands as if they had discussed a takeover or a sale.
The proffered hat that held the methods was silently pushed forward, and she picked one, and signed it, Mike withdrawing the rest and shredded them, in her presence, then silently Simon led her away, a copy of the contract and the script in his hand.
They arrived home both quiet now and thoughtful having put their names to the contract that would both fill her only son`s coffers by ending her life so painfully.
Simon silently placed the contract and script on the sideboard, took her into his arms and kissed her gently. He whispered in her ear that “she could always back out,” and that he would ask her the question every day as he wanted her to remain with him as his wife, he said he would respect her decision and help if he must but he would ask just the same.
She kissed him again and said; “I won`t change my mind but if I did you`d be the man I would spend the rest of my life with Simon, in fact that`s what I am literally going to do.”
“Tomorrow together we shall look at the script, but I don’t want to see the snuffing methods till next week when I am ready, just take me to bed please and don’t be gentle, it`s been a long enough day and I want to be distracted”
He swept her up in his arms and took her to their bedroom. Within seconds her knickers were round her ankles, he threw her onto the big soft bed and her dress up over her head. Without any fore-play he fell onto her body his stiffness released from his fly with one hand as the other arm held her down. In one savage stroke his angry looking rod thrust into her sex, she gasped then moaned yes as he began his urgent dance on her pinned down body.
The meeting had had its effect on him; they had discussed items that his imagination had found ultra exciting, they had had an extended conversation as to whether she should wear a hood, or not. The clothes she should start in, if the pain should begin in the first few moments, should she be in bondage before her clothing was removed, did she want a gag, when could they draw blood, where they should allow the camera man to have her sexually, and did she wish her executioner to make love to her before the pain or before the final act or during it, the minutia of the film industry`s world, treating her as a commodity, an item on the script regardless of the final grisly outcome.
Within seconds he began to spray seed deep into her body, each thrust urgently filling her like some demented grease gun forcing the hot seed deeper into her dry womb.
The second tryst was slower, much more controlled, steadily raising her to the top a sexual mountain the urgency gone from his loins. The climax that followed was huge, like a wave breaking over a pier, a release. They clung to one another arms entwined as if he never wanted her to move again. It was a moment that told her he was in love with her, and it was a moment of shear bliss.
Nature being nature broke the spell demanding she went to urinate; he rolled off and helped her to her feet and she tottered away to their on-suite bathroom leaking his seed down her leg as she went despite a strategically placed hand. He smiled sadly realising that this would all soon be just a memory, he would be on his own again and she would be just an image on an i*****l film.
She returned to him, lay beside him, saw his gloomy face and realised what he was thinking of, knowing the next few days would be critical for them both, so she decided to raise the subject herself.
“I don’t have an alternative Simon, not one that would ensure Peter`s life will be comfortable from now on. These sad folk, pay for what they want and pay well if it means I must suffer so be it, the pain can only last an hour or two and it will all be over.”
He went to speak but she put a finger to his lips
“We`ve all got to die sometime and at least this way it will be of some use, my life so far has been a waste of space!” she kissed him and then in a quieter voice she continued “your someone special to me, without you I could not be sure of the money going to where it`s needed, without your support and strength I would not get through the next few days so just love me, distract me, do whatever you need but just be there for me.
Somewhat taken aback he kissed her and affirmed he would do all he could to smooth the next few days and would ensure it was all not in vain.
She seemed to want to talk, to explain perhaps where the idea had sprung from, so he let her chat, she said that she had had a `punter who is a sadist’ it was his joy of giving her pain that was the spark that set the idea in motion. “I also knew you loved that sort of thing Simon and that you would do unspeakable things to me if I let you!”
She laughed at his open- mouthed expression, “how did you know?” he asked; “I have always tried to hide that side of me from you, I`ve never given the slightest hint of that, at least I didn’t think so!” She replied that “you can`t sell your body without learning to read folk, it wouldn’t be safe, trivial things over the year we have been together told me you would love to enjoy someone else`s pain, well you can now, though I`m not doing it for you, your just lucky!” and she laughed breaking the heavy moment before kissing him to stop him replying.
They made love again, slowly tenderly and very intensely this time, collapsing into sleep after the huge climax.
It was after eight when they awoke, the evening traffic making its usual clatter outside as they dressed, they were hungry, and she said she needed to dance, so that is just what they did, they ate at their favourite restaurant, then on to the night club returning in the small hours tired but elated, and distracted enough to sleep.
He being, on a holiday break those next few days flew past, abjectly keeping her occupied with no mention of the horrors to come, like young lovers in their first months; they slept when they were tired, ate when they were hungry, drank a lot and made love frequently. They laughed at the rain like c***dren, they danced till dawn, they ignored the mail, and the telephone they made love with the curtains open in full view of the neighbours, in fact they did just whatever they wanted when they wanted.
It was a fine time but reality lurked in the backs of their minds, the ever-present contract and other papers untouched, on the sideboard gathering dust, the spectre at the feast, a reminder to them of the film set, booked for the coming Saturday.
Reality struck as she passed to the kitchen and brushed that terrible contract to the floor. Like a neon sign it instantly stopped her in mid stride. Suddenly the carnival was over, this was her last Thursday on earth; she knew her life could be measured in hours now, a terrifying reality cold and hard.
She had contracted to arrive totally sober, dressed and made up as an office worker for her body to be killed to order, in just fourty eight hours from those papers reaching the floor. She scooped up the littered document, her blood turned to ice, and she was instantly sober.
She sat down clutching some of the crumpled papers the rest now strewn across the table in front of her, tears filling her eyes as Simon arrived in the room. He instantly understood but made no attempt to comfort her, simply passing into the kitchen to make coffee, take a deep breath and collect his jumbled thoughts.
The beverage made and realising it was not the moment to talk, he simply returned to her, and then silently began resorting the papers into three neat pile`s, to him they were the contract, the pain and the end game. To her they were the end of a poor life.
They sat for a while sipping the scalding coffee and collecting themselves, till silently she picked up the middle pile of papers she needed to know what she as to endure, her end could wait.
The papers were out of sequence, so it took a moment or two to collate them
The instructions started at the house with a reminder her not to be under the effects of drink or d**gs of any kind and to have emptied her bowels, though not her bladder they continued with the exact time of collection giving details of her mode of dress, her makeup, the hair style even where to sit in the car.
Then she would arrive in the car park, the exact time of arrival and her escort to lead her for the camera man, there was a note that the cameraman would assist her at this stage, Simon taking over and operating the camera after the motor had left and the gate secured.
In the entrance hall, there would be time for the cameraman having the use of her body semi dressed, (his pay for the work) replacing the knickers before handing her back to Simon to walk her to the set.
There would be the final chance to walk away.
If she was still agreeable, there would be a handover of payment while she was witness to it and Simon would see it irrevocably paid into the appropriate accounts. When she was satisfied and only then, would she as a token of her acceptance allow the securing her into handcuffs (strangely she thought) in front of her body, before passing her to the executioner, there is no return from this point.
From the next hour, for one whole hour naked and secure she will endure pain to an elevated level. To include; Penetration with varying objects including the insertion`s into the anus Flogging, Caning, and Whipping,
On the hour, there will be a break of few minutes to allow rehydration during which the method of her demise will be announced.
Pain will then restart for the following one hour, at a higher level this time to include; salting any wounds, Nailing breasts, Electric shocks, pussy whipping, and a branding.
At the end of that full hour the organiser and the escort, followed by the executioner will take their own sexual enjoyment thus allowing the victim time to get her-self mentally ready for the final scene. The break is not to exceed 30 minutes.
The executioner will from now be responsible as always and will ensure death by the method prescribed and chosen by the victim.
On completion of this scene, after the doctor has pronounced death the remains will be disposed of by the staff.
It was not signed
Her face now a mask, each page passed to Simon in silence, no comment being made except for the indrawn breath as each hour`s pain was described.
Her lips had vanished now her mouth a thin line.
She hissed to him that “they may as well see the options of her passing.” He asked if she was sure, and she silently nodded before he passed to her the “end game” sheet. She took a deep breath before turning it over to reveal the six options. She read aloud, each option being pronounced in a flat uninterested tone as if about some everyday shopping list, it was as if the method was not of interest to her, her only interested in the outcome.
One, vertical impalement, through orifice of the ladies’ choice.
Two, ridden by the executioner during Dismemberment by winches,
Three Split on a Spanish blade donkey,
Four, heated while encased in an iron maiden whilst impaled,
Five, immersion in sulphuric acid and injections of the same
Six, to allow a final bleeding by Phallic-splitting and breast severing,
Her only remark being that “these bastards know what sadism is about, I can only hope its quick”
They both knew in their hearts it was a forlorn hope.
Unsurprisingly for the next few hours she asked to be alone. Happy to fight his hangover and just regain his mental strength which he knew he would need, Simon, discretely slipped away to his bed.
The schedule said collection 10 a.m. on Saturday and she suddenly hated that clock on the mantle shelf. It had come down through the family, the last thing she had of her mothers, it was old and the tick of time passing served to remind her of how her life was slipping away. she had visited her loving son even though she was not strictly allowed access; she had drunk, eaten and fucked herself to a standstill.
She could think of little more she could usefully do to pass the hours

For the next few hours she sat occasionally a fleeting smile or a silent tear falling as she recalled one mental picture after another. . She wrote a short will, letters to the local authority, the landlord, and the few souls who mattered. Tears welled as time passed, she remembered her past life, the loss of her parents, rejection by her few relatives, the pregnancy and the birth of her lovely son, even that marred by his disability and the cruel way he had been removed by the authorities.
She Hated the entire world at that moment, Even the clock ticking away her time on the shelf, or the men who had paid to use her body over the years, her regulars, old Steven, always freshly scrubbed, who had saved his money just to use her once a month, or Jim from the pub who`s breath would peal paint and reeked of bro, Alan the man from the rock shop who was so lonely he just wanted to silently hold her! They would be the ones to miss her.
Closer to home Simon, her partner and her rock, accepted her prostitution with a smile, even finding some sort of joy in it when she returned each night to recount the details of her adventures. She knew he would in some perverse way enjoy her pain, but if it was her wish she believed he would have risked prison or walked over hot coals for her time and again.
Suddenly she realised it was dark, she was hungry, she knew she would need her strength soon. She called Simon, who had slept only fitfully, images in his mind churning like a kaleidoscope; together automatically like silent puppets they dressed there were few words they could use. They walked to their favourite chippy, then to the seafront pub but found no joy in the noisy brightly lit place.
They returned home hardly a word spoken, he suggested sleeping pills, she said they were addictive, and then realising it just didn’t matter laughing in a near hysterical way she took three.
They made gentle soft love, nonsexual and deep, until the pills took effect and they drifted off glad of the passing of time and the mental peace. It was fully light when he woke, he looked at his watch it was after two in the afternoon, surprised he sat up, shocked at the hour, he left her to sleep and cooked a meal for both of them.
They sat up in bed and ate. She said she wanted to say goodbye to someone today and would be back before teatime, she dressed without knickers then set off leaving him to his own thoughts.
Her first call, to the rock shop, here she asked for Alan, took him into the storeroom and gave him a blow job, the first sexual thing they had ever done together, she kissed him a tearful goodbye telling him she was leaving and would never be back, then watched sadly as his face crumpled. She hugged him one last time then walked out of his sugar filled world. Next, she found Steven, her widower, at his immaculate terraced house, this time bending over his living room table fully dressed; her skirt lifted over her naked backside for him, her body reacting to the little mans attempts at sex as if he was a porn star though in reality she never ever felt a thing. Again, telling the same tale, she left him in tears
Finally, she sought out Jim he, being less fragrant she allowed him to use of her in the same way, this time over the crates in the yard in the open, at the back of the pub, telling him it was a freebie as she was leaving town forever then walking away without a backward glance. In three short hours, she had said her goodbyes, to her life and her pathetic regulars. She returned home and recounted the afternoon`s events to Simon. It had the effect she expected; he took her to their bedroom still dressed as she had been all afternoon, then he slipped her skirt up and spent a long time cleaning her used body with his tongue. She climaxed heavily, before they lay together in that afterglow that hopefully we all know so well.
“Simon “she asked “is there anything at all that sexually you wish we had done together, if there is and if it can be done without marking me, now is the time, the only chance we will ever have again.”
Haltingly in a red-faced way, he began to tell her that he had just one and always had felt it just too dirty to mention, “Even to a hardened prostitute like you who had seen it all, it had been just beyond what he could bring himself to ask.”
She laughed her first real laugh since she had read the script, then she said “look, I won’t take the piss you know that and I`m going to die tomorrow, so it can never come back to embarrass you so let`s hear it!”
He blushed briefly then said “that`s it exactly, I want to take the piss, your piss!”
She had had no idea; his long-felt desire had been hidden so well all this time, she knew some would call it perverted, but in her trade she had learnt it takes all sorts, and this, though not for some, was a harmless perversion.
She asked if he wanted to drink it, wallow in it, or wash in it.
He became serious, saying “he wanted to taste some and then to fuck her as she did it, if she had no objections.”
In reply, she took his hand and led him to the kitchen, throwing down a towel she said, “it would be easier to clean up here, and did he want her still dressed as she was?”
She was mentally, quickly in working mode, he as keen as a puppy, stripping as he stood waiting for her to lay out the towel. “As you are please, it`s been my dream for months and I couldn’t bring myself to ask” her smiling reply of “dipstick!” said it all.
He sat on the towel and dressed but without knickers she stood astride his body, to save his blushes she threw her skirt over his head, pulling the now covered head to her pussy, his tongue instantly in use on her clit aided her flow and she let a spurt go. His tongue went into overdrive, she again allowing small spurts of her golden water to grace his tongue.
She unveiled his head slowly lowering her sex from his mouth to his erect penis, their tongues clashed, and the taste of her water was shared by them both as he penetrated her.
He began the usual hip dance, suddenly the heat of her water blessed his root and dripped from his balls, the effect was amazing and he instantly began to spurt deep into her womb. They clung to each other for a long while, kissing as he sat and she knelt in a cooling wet pool of her piss.
They slowly returned to this world, disengaging and mopping the wet tiles, she asked him if that had been all he dreamt it would be and that he should have asked months ago and he in turn explained it had been everything he ever wanted.
The moment past, she looked up at the kitchen clock, a plain electric one, sweeping its hand through time silently marking off the remaining hours; a shudder ran through her as she briefly remembered the ordeal to come. Would she be able to cope with the pain, she wondered, and then she remembered the dungeon scene she had done a year ago, how she had for some perverse reason actually enjoyed the pain! She knew she was to be restrained and in some way and was glad as she would have no choice, she would not be able to run away, once started the process could not be stopped.
He fetched her back to reality, did she want something to eat. Mike had said that she should have a full bladder in the first hour, they loved to see the victim piss herself with pain, but they hated s**t so to have a clean bowel. So, she decided that she would eat a last meal now then only drink in the morning.
He prepared the meal with love, it was perfect and it was her favourite, by now he was certain she would not back out, so he didn’t ask If she had had second thoughts, the conversation was halting and difficult, at first neither knowing quite what to say.
By a mutual but unspoken pact tomorrow was not mentioned though the aftermath was, in a matter of fact way as if she was going to be switched off, they talked about her regulars now coming to terms with her absence, the local authoritie`s reaction when they received her letter saying she was going overseas and would not be back, what to do about the flat it being in her name as well as his, her explaining about the letters she had written.
Time wore on, sleep they knew would be impossible so they watched the telly, twice during the small hours they had sex, neither time a total success, the clock ticked on measuring the minutes, slowly inexorably. They tried to ignore the thing, but no matter how they tried their eyes always returned to the elderly timepiece. Dawns light reached them, birds greeting the day, her last she knew, everything just a little starker, a little more in focus today, that clock ticked on.
She couldn’t relax, at eight she showered; he dried her in a huge fluffy towel, she sprayed a deodorant, wouldn’t do to sweat on arrival. Naked she toileted herself then drank yet another tea, noting her hand was trembling just a little; finally, she stood, and allowed him to dress her, not feeling she could do it herself.
Matching undies, sexual but not tarty in black lace, deep line bra, knickers a garter belt, black stockings a spray of perfume
She put her hair up in a bun, did her lips, then on with the immaculate white shirt, slid into pinstripe wide grey skirt, matching jacket and a neat but not gaudy broach. The finishing touch, the patent black 2” heels.
She surveyed herself in the mirror, as tidy a middle age office worker as ever graced an office, no hint of her former life-style at all.
He appeared at her side in his best grey suit; they held hands and waited silently.
They kissed and she said quietly “you must enjoy my pain Simon, I want you to enjoy it all!”
It was two minutes to ten.

At precisely ten the doorbell rang causing them both to jump, her eyes followed him as he answered the door, and a disjointed voice intoned “car for the name of Simon” to her it was like the tolling of a bell.
Simon called her and they swept out, he locked the door as if it was a normal working day. The car was a black Bentley, opulent luxurious, and chauffer driven, it swished through the traffic smoothly and quietly, they were soon at their destination a slaughter house on the upper town outskirts.
They swished into the car park and were met by the cameraman; he filmed their arrival and entrance to the office reception, refused the offer of the car waiting, and then secured the massive gate behind the departing motor, before donning a hood and passing the camera to Simon.
The cameraman approached her in the reception area; she stood silently as he knelt before her, slid his hands up her legs then drew her knickers down and off her long legs, Simon filming every silent move. It was clinical and unfeeling designed to make her understand she was to them just a commodity and to test her determination.
He turned her to face the counter lifted her skirt, and took her without foreplay or tenderness, almost ****, it was soon over, his huge splash of seed filling her for the first time today, though she showed no emotion at all, her face a mask. He withdrew himself, wiped his tool on the wisp of black lace then helped her step back into the now damp rags, she, settling herself and her skirt checking herself in the mirror while the men exchanged her for the camera.
Simon, now in a hood, taking her by the arm and with the cameraman walking backwards before them, guided her into another office where the filming paused.
Mike was sat behind the big desk in his hood too. He nodded a greeting, and with no further adoo he asked if she still was willing to complete the contracted scenario. There was total silence for perhaps ten seconds, her one mark of defiance on this strange morning, in a clear concise voice she answered:
“I do.”
He nodded then remarked that he admired her single -minded determination. Over the next few moments there was an exchange of payments by Simon and Mike using the computer proffered by Mike.
Simon checked the accounts on his telephone after a moment or two while she stood impassive, unmoving, silently watching the transaction till he showed her the phone screen. She nodded her understanding and at that moment she for a brief moment was in the richest women in the world category.
At the press of a button on the desk, she heard a bell ring outside, a door opened to her left and a sinister figure appeared dressed in, black from the hood through a loose gown down to his polished shoes. About her own height and oozing quiet power he stood in front of her. He was introduced to her by Mike, as her executioner, too her surprise,he shook her hand, saying “he was pleased to meet her and she was to refer to him as `master or sir’” his eyes cold grey and menacing appraising her as he did so. She did not answer.
The cameraman now began again to film carefully avoiding both Mike and Simon who had now moved to a couch behind the desk. The executioner told her to strip, adding the single command “slowly.” She began with the jacket, dr****g it neatly on the desk; she slowly slid the skirt down her long legs, again the folding and laying of the item she knew she would never wear again. The shirt followed, each button revealing more of her underclothing, the camera capturing every tiny detail especially the wet patch at the crutch of her panties the result of the cameraman`s ministrations.
She was told to stop there, dressed now in underclothes and stockings the room struck chilly. A pair of handcuffs appeared and she proffered her wrists for the attachment of these final tokens of her submission; they struck cold and final around her wrists. His voice quiet and full of menace her new master asked, “was she ready?”
Her voice shaking with emotion, she almost in a whisper, answered; “I am master”.
Simon turned to her, whispered goodbye and kissed her tenderly, He turned to Mike and in answer to the unasked question there was a nod. The masked man took hold of the handcuffs and hauled her to one side as first Mike and then Simon swept past with a long meaningful look, going to take their places in the gallery to watch the coming spectacle.
She was lead into a long draughty corridor and then into a large room, it was cold, dimly lit, a large camera at each corner, a doctor`s couch in the centre under a spotlight, a table full of whips paddles tawse and the toys of his trade, chains hanging from rails set in a high ceiling. She noted grooves in the concrete floor, no doubt to channel the blood. She wondered how many a****ls had passed through this charnel house over the years.
A huge digital clock smiled down at her from the wall, another clock mocking her, measuring the minutes of her remaining life. It read just 10.40.
The master lifted her manacled hands to a hook on a chain; she was lifted till her toes only just touched the floor, her mind wandered, suddenly realising she was barefooted, she tried to recollect when her shoes went she had no memory of removing them.
He left her to hang, click, click, click, the clock marked off each moment at precisely 1045 CRACK, that first blow landed across her bra covered breasts, her concentration suddenly back she felt the sting of the whip across her nipples even through the thick bra`s protection.
The eyes of the executioner smiling now, beginning to enjoy his work, a single tail whip in his hand savouring the scantily clad and shapely woman`s first encounter with the pain he was going to enjoy inflicting.
He approached her running his hands in a sensuous way over her body his touch as he knew it would be, like electricity to her super sensitive skin. Their eyes met just for a brief moment and in that instant, they understood one another completely: she needed the death, as much as he would enjoy inflicting her pain, she was here just to suffer and ultimately die, she knew now he was going to savour every second of the experience, he would not speed her end and would show no mercy.
He stepped back and the blows now fell rapidly, the thin fabric of her wet panties shredded under the onslaught, her stockings became pathetic shards of torn nylon, the skin under the rips, red though not broken, she knew he was a skilled man, playing with her, she groaned just really for show, she had endured worse pain at the dentists. Under his hood she knew he was smiling, they understood one another.
The whip rested, he approached her, knife in hand he cut the pathetic remains of the underclothes from her lower limbs, leaving the bra for some reason. He held up a small root in front of her eyes, peeling it slowly he neatly cut it length-ways. Never taking his eyes from hers he slid the peeled ginger into her sex, the effect was not instant but it was quick, her channel was rapidly on fire, he held up the other piece, wrapped both his arms round her feeling for her rosebud and still without breaking eye contact slid the pointed sliver of root into the tender orifice.
The effect, when it arrived, was both genuine and sudden, she began to scream, no false noises, no `for the camera’ groan, her guts fore and aft were on fire, her legs kicking as she struggled to eject the invading slivers of ginger, it was futile, tears fell, her master standing back laughing, as she convulsed on her chain, dribbles of blood running from her suspended wrists as the cruel handcuffs bit her soft flesh unnoticed, her whole being concentrated on her bowel and her burning womb.
His voice penetrated her consciousness asking her to beg for the removal of the roots, her stubborn determination said no but the pain said, god yes, a minute or so past, it was just too much ...She begged... Sincerely and with feeling she begged.
A strong finger invaded her body removing the virginal root, the pain eased, he fished in her bowel with his forefinger, she, lifting her knees to her chest to open herself for him it took a little probing but the task was soon done and to her relief he held it up to her eyes. A tiny insignificant, seemingly harmless piece of root he placed it on her tongue, she imagined it was covered in her shit, she expected to taste it, but like a magician he had swapped the pieces and all she could taste was ginger hot and spicey. The pain receded slowly, her toes returned to the ground to ease the pressure on her wrists. Her audience of Mike and Simon applauded, though she was not sure if it was for her, the performance or the executioner.
Her tormenter appeared again telling her to spit out the ginger root, which she willingly did, he swatted at her backside with a leather strap, swinging her body round so she faced that slow-moving clock. It read 11.20 her mind registered that there was still 25 minutes before she got a rest, perhaps 1 ½ hours or at worse 2hours more of this pain, or worse, to endure, as another blow fell.
Regularly now blows rained down on her exposed lower half, each click if the clock preceded a blow landing, he struck like a metronome, precise swipes, click crack, click, crack, click, her mind strayed to the advert for safety belts clunk click, desperately she tried to think of other things than the pain to come, knowing the second hour was to be worse.
The clock said 11.40; he stopped striking her to change to a spiked tawse, tiny spikes projecting from a leather beater. He made sure she saw the cruel instrument, then concentrating on her backside he soon aerated it with tiny punctures, droplets of blood showing as the miniscule teeth did their worse, again each blow timed with that awful clicking clock, just four devastating strokes and the bell rang to say the first hour was over.
A small hose appeared and it was hooked into her mouth like a dentist`s mouthwash, water refreshing and cold ran into her dry mouth, she gulped some swilled more about her dry mouth and dribbled yet more down onto her bra. The thought that it was strange he had not removed that yet, crossed her mind. The hose was removed, and she became conscious of Mike standing before her, he read the list of demises to her slowly commenting and allowing his words to sink into her brain.
“First there was impalement,” he explained that her whole weight would be suspended on a spike inserted in her cunt or anus and allowed to slowly penetrate her body till she passed over. He said, “that would take about three quarters of an hour.” It sounded as though he spoke from experience…
The second method would be by dismemberment, winches tearing her limbs from her body while the executioner rode her to death. That he said, “was quicker.”
The third would be to ride a wooden pony the back of which had a blade that would in time split her in two from her saddle upwards. He told her that it was “a good hour`s entertainment!”. She shuddered as he went on that “Fourth would be to be encased in an iron case her body impaled on spikes inside the case and the iron heated till it glowed. That “took a while but rendered the flesh edible.”
Another shudder passed through her body as he smiled. Fifth would be to be stood in an acid bath, and injected with the mixture. He had witnessed this and it had taken most of an afternoon for the woman to totally expire but the advantage was no body to dispose of.
Finally, he said “this as it was his favourite, he hoped she had chosen, it” the insertion of a bladed phallus, and the removal of the breasts, the subsequent bleeding to death taking what he described as a “fair time”
He held the envelope in front of her to see it bore her signature just as she had signed it a fortnight before
He slit the thing open and held out the card, it said method no 3 the horse.
His words replayed in her head: he had described this death as “a good hour`s entertainment.” She knew whatever he alone would find “good entertainment” that was not what it would be for her.
She was lowered to the ground, muscles relaxing from their cramped positions, wrist painful now as the cuffs were removed.
The executioner called time, and play restarted prompt at twelve with the rubbing into the tiny wound on her arse a handful of salt, by two minutes past her backside had flared into a painful pincushion, her mind quickly left the worry of her demise and concentrated its energy on the pain of now. She was told to lie on the doctors table, the relief of not being suspended quickly vanishing as she was secured legs open on her back.
“We have a lot to cram in, so you had best expect the worse then you won`t be disappointed” he smiled as he said it switching on an electric soldering iron to heat he reached for his whip. She knew what to expect, and she was not wrong, just as soon as that clock clicked so the stinging slash of the whip at full force smacked into her pubic mound. Another five followed each heralded as the clock clicked, each followed by a scream from the core of her very being. Never had her sex felt pain like this before.
He released her arms then reattached them above her head to a single chain above the bed. She sat legs wide pussy painful, as if wanting to hold a throbbing organ, her backside sore as he removed the shoulder straps from her bra.
He lifted the now hot iron and gently slid the hot tip down the black lacy cup of the right breast, the melting materiel burning itself to the soft flesh as the cup fell in two to the accompaniment of more screaming.
He tore the remaining remnant from her body; her breasts pale in the spotlight as he tweaked the nipples, then hefted the tender morsel to his hooded lips. He took the iron in his right hand then the left breast in his left hand cupping it tenderly in his palm. Then he swung the hot iron up and wrote his initials on her pale skin it was a callous, unfeeling act for which no emotion was shown. Her screams were loud and long, her body twisting in a pained arc the contortion continuing as he replaced the iron for the full stops.
He switched off the iron then held the breast up so she could read the neatly charred letters a `T’ and an `E’
He reached for her ankles and freed them, pushing her from the bed, she swung on the bindings of her wrists, again pain shooting through her wrist shoulders and arms, she swung crazily as he rolled the carcass chain along its rail, they stopped at a wooden bar opposite Mike and Simon , she could see them both, eyes eager for more, absorbing her pain like d**gs to an addict, Simon no longer caring she was his partner, she was just as an object being tortured now and Mike almost slavering at her screams.
The breasts were positioned on the top of the bar, nails appeared and a hammer. The nail point positioned on the soft flesh, with a single stroke the first was struck down through the soft flesh. She jerked and screamed, a second into the other breast between those hideous initials, again unspeakable pain seared through the breast and to Mikes joy more screams.
He was not done, an electro pain machine was clipped to the nails, the power started low, a two second burst, burning effect through her chest, up the power, again, more screams, she was becoming hoarse, her head swinging now from side to side with the pain, up more she watched his hands turn the dial, another jolt another scream, her voice almost gone now, the pain immense. “Please, please turn it right up and finish me” she howled, her ears suddenly becoming aware of the bell, another full hour had past.
They left her stooped, her breasts nailed to the bar while first Mike then Simon deposited a load apiece into her body, they each climaxed in seconds, by now having no regard for her at all.
The executioner though, removed the nails, stood her up faced her, kissed her and almost tenderly took her against the doctor`s couch, she was unable to resist him, her body betraying her by climaxing as he did, hitting a new height, regardless of her burns cuts and piercings, bells rang in her head and her body orgasmed like a car on a roller coaster she expected it would be her last.
She knew he would soon kill her, it was his job, but at that moment she was on a higher plain, she was beyond care, she was in love with pain and she was resigned to her fate.
He withdrew his penis from her ravished body and stood for a few seconds regarding her from his hood, he turned and was about to move away when she croaked, “what are the initials for,” she wanted his name, the last man ever to have her. Without a word, he re-secured her wrists with a rope to the chain and lifted her body.
Then from the shadows he fetched a wooden horse its legs body and head decorated and painted like a bizarre fairground piece taken off some fantastic roundabout, on its neck four scroll’s bearing three women`s names and a blank.
On the back of the b**st a razor sharp single edged curved blade the ends higher than the centre, she was lowered till just above that horrific saddle, care was taken to open her sexual lips and then she was lowered just with that terrible blade separating her vulva tickling but not yet in full contact.
The Executioner looked deep into her eyes, his knife in hand, as quietly he whispered, “Ted, Ted Edwards - the initials” with that she smiled, whispered “thank you” then nodded for him to cut the rope.
She dropped that final fatal inch like a wet sandbag landing on a floor and she screamed a loud scream of perhaps shock as suddenly that blade did its first work, blood gushed from her crutch as the blade bit deep.
The pain strangely masked, perhaps even welcomed. Her final agony had begun!
Though now there was just an odd slicing effect as the soft tissue began to be steadily divided, the blade missing the clit itself and slicing the hood neatly, if slowly in two she felt it go, blood trickling now down either leg, rivulets from the horses back.
Continuously groaning now, she knew there was no going back. She in reaction jumped back shifting her weight, the bones of her backbone end felt the slicing blade the pain huge, she again rocked forward involuntarily, the blade sliced the clitoris this time, blood bursting from the tender vessel. Her rosebud she knew would never take another tool, as she passed out for just a moment or two
She returned to consciousness, her eyes wide, taking in the sight of her ex-lover, Simon up in the glass office, watching, his face intently fixed on her as her life blood ran away a smile on his face, thoroughly enjoying her painful demise. Next to him Mike on his feet at the window tool in hand, behind the glass loving the whole spectacle, egging that blade silently on.
At her side, her executioner Ted, she whispered “how long” his reply cold and indifferent, that “she had been up just a few moments,” that the last occupant had lasted a full hour.
She rocked her body back to front and side to side as best she could in the hope to speed the blade deeper and to shorten her time.
He smiled, and quietly said “That will do no use girl, your hip bones will stop its gallop and you will bleed till the end whatever you do now.”
That blessed clock ticked away as her own weight slowly and finally tore its way into the organ that she had so long made her living from, no more would she bring joy to Alan, Steven, Jim or the others. Her mind reeling as she prayed for the end of her agony, knowing these ghouls and the paying six ere the last folk she would ever excite.
The camera-man, his hand holding the camera came closer, his lens in her face, pale now though her eyes still watching his every move. Then taking in her cuts, burns and punctures slowly it descended till it approached that terrible saddle. Taking in its depth in the precious meat as the blood still flowed down the painted flank of the bizarre a****l. Her legs now hanging limp, crimson drips splashing from the toes into the red puddles and dribbling down the waiting drains.
Her eyes began to dull they all knew the day was over.
The clock ticked and the time read1401.