UPDATE 26/10/21


To illustrate, Skye drew the knife across the hanging boy’s belly. Although the bloody hook through his jaw hindered him from making any articulate sound, he managed a sort of wet gurgle of pain as the blood welled up along the length of the cut then trickled thickly down his side.

“Form two lines.” She instructed, taking the whip from her belt and cracking it once more. “One on this side,” she gestured towards the groaning boy, swaying slowly on the chains, blood oozing from every crude piercing, “and one here.” She indicated the space in front of the restrained girl. “When you have taken your turn, go to the back of the other line and keep repeating until the job is done! Don’t worry,” she smiled cruelly, “I’m sure you’ll all get several turns!”

The audience began to shuffle around, debating with each other which line to join but eventually managing to arrange themselves into lines of approximately equal length. A young woman, however, one of the group from which Dinah’s executioner had been picked, hung back while the others queued up then approached Skye a little nervously.

“A problem?” the diminutive dominatrix raised an eyebrow. “I hope you’re not going to refuse my commands?”

“Oh no no, nothing like that!” the young woman waved her hands and chuckled a little nervously. “It’s just, well…” she blushed deeply. “I’ve always had this fantasy of eating a girl’s pussy while she dies, and since this girl is going to get a slow death from behind, meaning I wouldn’t be in the way, I wonder if I might…?”

“Go ahead!” chuckled Skye. “No volunteers to suck on this, huh?” she asked the audience in a louder voice, tapping the blade of the knife against the cruel hook piercing and stretching the boy’s ruined member, eliciting chuckles from the audience and another inarticulate groan from the boy as the vibrations agitated that most sensitive wound.

As the young women knelt and parted the knees of the condemned girl, Skye handed the knife to the first person in line before the boy, which happened to be Mike who had beheaded the first girl while being sucked off. He looked thoughtful for a moment the sliced quickly at the boy’s dangling right arm. The boy gave a sort of wet hiss of pain as the knife was passed to the next in line. At the front of the next line, the girl on the chair moaned as the young woman at her feet probed, explored and caressed her most intimate area with her tongue. The additional tightness of the metal collar with each individual turn was minor but as more and more people took their turn at twisting the iron handle, it began to bite. The tightness around her throat only heightened the pleasure of what was going on between her legs!

As she has hoped, Skye noticed that with each time they approached the dangling boy, the audience member’s confidence grew and they cut deeper, apparently aiming to inflict more pain. A deep slice across his scrotum caused his right testicle to fall out and hang from its connecting tube and a cut about half way up his impaled PENIS was pulled wider by his body weight pulling against it, giving it the almost comical appearance of having an open mouth, or looking like a tree being felled by a lumberjack’s axe in an old cartoon!

The cuts continued as the garotte around the girl’s throat was wound ever tighter, the young woman between her legs seeming not to tire at all as she tongued the dying girl to her third, breathless orgasm. Her face was purple now, her lungs burning as she struggled for oxygen but it was not enough yet to make her pass out.

From the queue waiting to make cuts in the boy, there was laughter as the hanging testicle was severed and fell to the floor, which by now was slick with oozing blood, with a wet plop. Another cut bit into his PENIS, close to the base, bleeding more profusely than the other cuts due to the amount of blood still being diverted to that particular part of his anatomy despite the damage. Another cut followed it, then another and another, the rest of his body more or less ignored for the moment with the audience enjoying what amounted to a grotesque game of Jenga, each wanting to bring the distended and mutilated organ closer to snapping under the weight of the boy who hung from it but none wanting to be the one who made the final cut.

The girl’s vision was hazy now, darkening at the edges, as the garrotte was turned even tighter. Knowing that her playmate could not possibly last much longer, doubled down on her efforts, practically gulping the sweet honey that flowed over her tongue.

A cheer went up from the audience as, with a sudden jolt and a squelching sound, the boy’s member gave way. His hook-stiffled yelp was more of surprise than pain as his backside suddenly dropped several inches, leaving his torn boyhood dangling comically from the hook, dripping from the base and leaving him with only a bloody stump from which semen now oozed uncontrolled, mixing with the thick crimson blood. The jolt as he fell yanked on all the other hooks but none more so than the on through his jaw. There was an audible cracking sound as it dislocated.

A final turn on the garrotte squeezed the last of the life from the bound girl. Whether from the pain of an oxygen-starved death or the pleasure from her final orgasm, the most powerful of her short life, she tried to scream but, with no air in her lungs it simply came out as a faint wheeze before her body slumped and the girl between her legs found her mouth flooded with the results of her playmate’s explosive climax. Satisfied and feeling very pleased with herself, she stood up and wiped her mouth.

“Feel better?” Skye asked with a chuckle, helping the slightly unsteady young woman to her feet as the audience now all moved over to the other line hoping to get another cut or two in before the boy too expired.

“Mmhmm!” nodded the young woman, the taste of the sweet teen honey still fresh on her tongue. “Last item on my bucket list ticked off. Now…” She blushed deeply and leaned in to whisper in the smaller girl’s ear. “I don’t suppose you have one of those crosses free?”

“I think something can be arranged!” Skye chuckled, slipping her arm through the young woman’s. “Come with me!” Carefully, so as not to give away the secret of what lay waiting outside, she pulled the door to the courtyard open just enough for the pair of them to slip through and introduced the young woman to the assistants who were waiting outside for the finale. Once everything was arranged, she came back inside and went to watch the boy receive his final cuts.

There was a viciousness to the slices now, as if the audience had become fully desensitised and had forgotten that the flesh they were cutting into belonged to a person and not just some slab of meat, which he now closely resembled. Deep cuts criss-crossed his entire body and face. Another cheer erupted as his jaw broke free allowing his head and shoulders to fall backwards. What happened next could only have taken a matter of seconds but seemed to occur in slow-motion to those watching. The two jerking falls had weakened the flesh around the hooks though his chest and thighs, as had his constant thrashing as the stinging cuts were inflicted. Now the bloodied flesh was no longer enough to support his weight and his body tore away from the final four hooks. The boy let out a jawless gurgle of alarm as he fell, bashing the back of his head hard against the bloodstained concrete of the floor.

“The heretic has paid the price for his blasphemy!” declared Skye, taking back and brandishing the bloody knife. “Now finish him off and send him to his final judgement!” Without needing to be told what to do, the whole audience surged forward into a huddle on top of the shredded boy, stomping and crushing him under their feet. The crunch of breaking bones mixed with the squelch and pop of delicate organs being destroyed and, a minute or two later when everyone stepped back to admire their handywork, all that remained of the boy was a bloody pulp on the ground, trails of intestine and pieces of smashed bone the only clue that he had every been human while, above the mess, the distended PENIS and torn-off jaw hung like grotesque Christmas decorations.

Chuckling to herself, Skye looked down at the bloody mess, happy that cleaning up was not one of her responsibilities. It was a shame that the boy could not now be used as a decoration but, thanks to the surprise volunteer, that was really not going to be a problem!

“And now!” she cracked her whip for attention. “We come to the finale of our evening of Justice and Punishment! Follow me!” The two red-robed attendants opened the doors wide now so that the audience could see the courtyard beyond. Skye led the way and, still pumped with adrenaline from their brutal killing of the boy, the audience followed her out.

The moon above provided some illumination but most of the light came from the flaming torches around the walls of the yard as well as the several braziers and fire-pits dotted around. From one side came the delicious smell of roasting meat as the cuts of the beheaded girl sizzled and popped over the charcoal grill. Around the edges, between the torches, were nine t-shaped crucifixes. Two of the assistants were currently fixing up the garotted girl’s carcass to rot in public view while Dinah’s body occupied another. Skye looked with interest to the one which had been intended for the boy after his death by a thousand cuts had there been enough of him left to be worth nailing up and saw, to her great satisfaction, the young woman who had asked the favour of her, stripped naked, sweat-soaked and breathing heavily, her palms turned upwards on the cross-beam so that her arms twisted awkwardly, affixed by nails through her wrists.

What did surprise Skye, however, was the next cross to the left on which hung the friend of her volunteer, the woman who had taken such delight in carrying out Dinah’s execution. Had she intended this all along too? Or was seeing her friend nailed up such an inspiration that she asked to join her? One of her wrists was already fixed but an assistant was up a latter which leant against the wall hammering in the second nail to the busty young woman’s tattooed arm. Since these crucifixes had been intended for those already dead, no provision had been made to nail the feet but that mattered little – it simply meant that the friends would expire quicker and in greater agony as the suffocating pose forced the life from them.

In the centre of the yard, around a black iron pole, was a wooden pyre, smaller than the average bonfire but well formed and with hidden fuel deposits within it to ensure that it burned hard and fast. At the front was a fairly wide set of steps on wheels which had been borrowed from Skye’s school and their normal purpose of allowing the teachers to get up on the stage for morning assembly. On opposite sides of the pyre sat the already slightly burned bodies of the electrocuted siblings, sat back to back with the wood between them, their legs spread wide apart and their hands reaching back to clasp each other’s and bound with rope.

As the audience oohed and ahed at the spectacle and chattered excitedly in anticipation of the delicious meat, Skye gave them a few minutes to look around then mounted the steps and, stood at the top, cracked her whip once more for attention.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” she proclaimed, “we come to the final execution of the night and a punishment reserved for only the most heinous of offenders. Guards!” she bellowed, “Bring out the final prisoner!”

To be continued...