The Executioner's Girl

Chapter 5

I went to the drawers beneath my whip rack and selected some pumps: one for each n****e, one for her cunt. The secret here is lots of lubricating oil and I spurted practically half a bottle over her to get her skin shining, enlisting Kitty’s help to massage it in. I took my favourite whip (with the end shaped like a flat mini hand) and smacked Black b***h’s plump quim–not too hard, just enough to swell her c**t and make her yelp. I made Kitty suck the victim’s t**s to long points before having her place the smaller pumps in turn over each n****e and squeeze the rubber bulbs to suck the air from the chamber. I took charge at the p***y end, holding the cup over her freshly spanked mound and pumping quickly to get a good suction grip. You could see her flesh swelling inside the clear plastic chambers, her dark teats elongating impossibly and her oily engorged labia pressing against their tight confines. She wailed and writhed but she was a good girl and didn’t even need restraining, despite the desecration of her young body.

I stopped squeezing and let her flesh stay expanded and full of blood within the plastic. I had never tried these pumps on myself but my girls tell me it makes them extra sensitive, if a little frightened at the temporary disfigurement. I had never seen any girl’s cunt swell like this one; the glistening skin almost seemingly about to burst through the hard cup. I took my time to release her from the harsh clothes pegs, relishing the sight of her fattened lips, knowing how much the boys would just love to have that distended, wet mouth engulfing their erections. I gave her lips a few gentle pinches and a little rub to soothe the inevitable tingling itch, and she smiled her thanks up at me. I had Kitty release the valve on the tit pumps and free her distended n*****s. I gave them a quick suck, delighting in how they filled my mouth like a tiny c**k, letting her go before the urge to bite right through and chew them became too great.

I finally released her cunt and let the boys see the mesmerizing sight of her ballooned labia and c**t. It was grotesque yet captivating, the lips like two dark sausages strung at both ends, the skin seemingly translucent because of their oily covering, the meat apparently about to burst through. The boys had their mouths open in shock at the sight, but their pricks were bobbing with the extra rush of excitement. Imagine sliding your length into that slippery fat cunt, slapping back and forth against that hot jelly softness, so bizarre and yet so wonderful.

I had Black b***h lie with her knees pulled up and legs apart to show herself off and made Kitty do the same beside her, so both girls were offering their succulent wares to the boys. I took three steps back so that I was just in front of the guys and able to reach down and grip their iron-hard pricks. I noted with smug glee the ooze of clear pre-come stringing from Wiry Dude’s tip. I gave them both an unexpected rapid wank, even surprising myself with my need to jerk their straining poles. My gloves were still so slick with the lubricating oil that they skimmed almost without friction over the smooth skin, when all the boys wanted was firm deliverance.

I gripped their c***s like two relay batons and pulled them forward, presenting the erections to the waiting holes. Sissy Boy was to get Kitty’s tight lesbo snatch whilst lucky Wiry Dude would have the delight of the swollen blancmange that was Black b***h’s cunt. I was very careful now, taking care to ease their c***s just inside the wet entrances, so that only the very tips penetrated and felt the slippery warmth within. I knew it would be torture for the boys, the desire to sink inside overwhelming.

“Don’t either of you boys move a muscle,” I said. “Go in any deeper and you will get your c**k cut clean off.”

They sucked in their breath but they were going to need all the willpower they could muster. I went behind them, stroking their hard arse cheeks to make the skin shiver. I burrowed my way between their buttocks to find their arse holes, delicately tickling the contracting rings, coating them with the oil from my gloved middle fingers. I pushed forward, meeting the resistance of their muscles and breaking it, sliding up inside them as they gasped and jerked forward, knowing that their c**k-heads would feel the electric friction from even those extra few millimetres of penetration. I hissed out a timely reminder that if they went any deeper I would chop off their pricks. With a huge effort they managed to restrain themselves, even as I went knuckle deep and wiggled my finger inside their arses. I needed a different method to break them; I needed my cane.

I let them see what was coming, smiling as I displayed the thin switch. I wanted to do them simultaneously but the contact would not be so telling, so I elected to give Sissy Boy the first stroke and Wiry Dude the second. They both yelped as the cane bit, but I tempered the weight to get them used to it since I didn’t want either of them lashing out in a sudden rage of pain. Sissy Boy took his beating well, screwing up his eyes and squealing like a girl but nonetheless keeping his crotch static, just as I had ordained. Wiry Dude was less controlled. Each strike saw him flinch and jerk a little before he could check himself, forcing the slide of delectable swollen p***y flesh over his engorged glans. He was sweating and breathing hard. I could sense his desperation being reined in at the very last by the mental images my threat had provoked and his caution over the seriousness of my intentions.

I made sure I struck him harder each time and finally he cracked. As stroke number ten bit into his arse, his hips inadvertently bucked forward and sank his c**k two inches inside the plump cunt. That was just too much for him. His balls already looked painfully tight and his prick was surely dying to be buried. He cried out in one last effort to avoid defeat but it was too late and he thrust forward and sank his whole length inside her, shivering as her inflated labia squashed against his groin. I was delighted with my victory, that I would be able to send this slimy spy back to Ariadne with a real tale to tell.

I didn’t let him bask long in his pleasure. I hit him hard once more and pulled him back and away from her by his hair.

“Look what you’ve done to her!” I yelled. “You are going to pay for this, you dirty f**k!”

Black b***h was moaning and trembling, looking almost delirious with the bliss of his entry. I got between her knees and guided the dildo at my crotch to her begging hole and quickly drove it home, f*****g her swiftly and mercilessly as she screamed, her fattened cunt slapping and slurping with delicious vulgarity. She came almost at once but I was unable to curb my lust and f****d right through it, giving her a second shuddering orgasm only minutes from the first. I withdrew, getting Kitty to suck the unctuous cream from my dildo while Black b***h lay in a heaving, semi-conscious heap.

I turned my nasty intentions to Wiry Dude, seeing the desperation for relief written all over his face and masking any trepidation he had about my promised punishment. He went to the whipping post without a fight and I put him with his back to it, his erection reaching out for me oblivious of the fate awaiting it. He let me shackle his wrists above his head and only then did I give my whispered reminder that his c**k was for the chop. I saw the uncertainty creep into his eyes for the first time.

I made Kitty bring me my special shears before sending her out to the kitchenette to prepare her part of the game. I held the shears up close to Wiry Dude’s paling face to let him see the shining sharpness, to let him hear the metal rasp as the blades closed together.

“It’s coming off, Midge,” I taunted him quietly. “Your silly willy is about to die.”

I opened the shears around his prick, expecting to see it flag instantly. But it stayed hard, bobbing ever so slightly as I gently closed the handles and brought the blades to his shaft. I let the sharp metal press his flesh but not break it. My victim had lost any smugness now and I could see he was rapidly becoming as worried as he ought to have been. Oddly, he gave no vent to his panic and the only muttered protestations came from Sissy Boy beside me, which broke my concentration and put me off my stride, something I simply would not tolerate. I had to put the shears down and get Sissy Boy to mount the motorcycle, and I cuffed his wrists before getting a pair of my black velvet draw-string bags and placing one over his head like a hood.

“Be a good girl and stay quiet,” I said to him as I pulled the cord tighter around his neck, “or you will be next.”

I went back to Wiry Dude and put the other hood on him, knowing the smothering closeness of the thick material and lack of air inside would only add to his predicament. Now he had seen the blades he needn’t see any more. I was surprised how quiet he remained, but his wrists jerked at the shackles above him as I closed the blades right by his ear once more and then put them around his still stiff c**k and gently closed them as before. Kitty had returned and so I was ready for the end game.

“Where should I make the cut?” I said, pressing the blades into his skin at different points along the shaft. “Here? Or here?”

I began to squeeze a little harder each time, occasionally taking the shears back to his ear to remind him of the sound that would accompany the final hard cut. He must have felt my eagerness in the pressure on his iron prick, perhaps even felt the excitement bubbling inside me, filling me and seeping through my skin. The urge to cut is always immense. It is all I can do to stop myself. I can feel the sprite inside me catching hold and taking control. I picture my hands squeezing together and the fountain burst of warmth upon them. I imagine that in its final ecstasy the c**k spurts its huge come load onto me so that it is gushing from both ends–the fluid of life from one end, death from the other. I close my eyes and think of holding this long, smooth prick in my bare hands, feeling the warmth of it on my cheek. I imagine taking it away, amputated but still somehow remaining hard, of tasting it in private, licking the shaft and engulfing the tip, tentatively reaching down to press the head of it against my tiny cunt...

I sometimes fantasise that I am lying on a bed of severed pricks, literally hundreds of them, of all shapes and sizes. They are all still hot and erect, all still with smooth balls attached. Now that they have been separated from their owners I am free to bask in their feel. I grasp at them greedily to see how different ones fill my palm. I wipe them across my face and feel their sticky ooze trail over my lips. I squeeze them between my little t**s and simultaneously grind down so that the ones beneath me are forced between my arse cheeks and press my anus. I take a foot-long shining black one and use it to gently beat my throbbing c******s. The pricks are alive, all pulsing and writhing against me, becoming ever more persistent in their efforts to bury into my body. And then I open up and take them, allowing the very smallest one first. It glides in with no pain whatsoever, right inside my p***y.