Miss Woodcock 4.4 (31)

Posted on March 24, 2019 by riwa

 Miss Woodcock – English teacher

Part 1

My name is Miss Woodcock – Anita Woodcock. Yes, I know how it sounds. But since I’m attractive I’ve made it work for me.

I teach remedial English at City College, home of Pi Omicron Ro Nu. So I know all about what goes on there. And yes, I get my fair share of “woodcock” jokes, innuendo… and of course the real thing, if you get my meaning.

You’d be surprised how many kids start college with a failing knowledge of English. My task is to train these young men and woman to be able to read and write where their primary school has failed them. I consider myself quite good at my job.

You see, in college I’m allowed to use any incentive I can think of to get these kids to pass. Yes, that means I sometimes use my body. But it also means some of these kids don’t survive. And for that I’m allowed to see to most of those executions myself.

I used to teach high school. But the faculty at City University found out I had a pretty decent graduation rate. They wanted me to apply my skills to incoming freshmen. So naturally I took the job as it meant better pay.

Back in high school the teachers try real hard not to get involved with their students. But once they become seniors and turn 18 we’re allowed to start using “other methods” to get them to pass. I don’t mean we simply grade them on their horizontal skills. But we do use any motivation we can to get them to apply themselves. When that doesn’t work we resort to other more lethal measures.

I can still remember my first hanging. His name was Robert Faraday. Bobby crossed my path while I was teaching remedial English back at Dolcett High.

Somehow he reached his last year of school without being able to read or write. He was a basketball player who transferred in from another school. I have no idea how he managed to stay on the team.

Apparently the faculty found out about it. They decided they could not graduate him without improving his English skills. So he ended up in my class.

I was starting the spring remedial semester when he was thrust into my room along with a sheet of paper explaining his deficiencies. I was dressed in a charcoal checkered jacket and short skirt with nylons that highlighted my legs. My white blouse revealed a small amount of cleavage. After all, I want my class to know I can be playful, yet serious.

Mr. Faraday brought his paperwork up to me and smiled. He saw my name on the blackboard and cracked a joke, suggesting he could certainly help me find a good ‘woodcock’ if I was interested. The class laughed.

I knew I had to shut him down right then and there. So I skimmed the paper he handed me. Then I gave him my most seductive smile.

“Mr. Faraday; it seems you’ve joined my class none too soon. You’re never going to get a scholarship to City University if you can’t spell your own damned name. And you’re certainly not going to play on any professional basketball team someday, not if you can’t even read a fucking contract. But I do look forward to watching you hang before eating your ‘woodcock’ as a nice appetizer when they’ll be serving you at the school cafeteria for lunch next week.”

The class broke out in laughter as he blushed a bright red. He wisely decided not to take me on any further. “The name’s Bobby, Miss Woodcock,” he answered in a subdued tone.

He meekly took an empty chair near the front of the class. “Fair enough… Bobby. I think we’re going to get along just fine. Now can anyone here tell me what a noun is?” When they all gave me that deer-in-the-headlights look I sighed heavily, knowing it was going to be a very long semester.

—

Right away I knew Bobby was going to be a problem. Either he didn’t have an aptitude for English or he felt like he just couldn’t be bothered with it. So after the first week of class I had him stay after for a little consultation.

It hadn’t taken long after our first encounter before he was back to his old, cocky self. “What’s up, teach?” he asked with a snicker. “Need a little ‘woodcock’?”

“Not at all, Bobby,” I replied with my most charming smile. “Right now I just need you to pass the damned class.”

“No can do, Miss Woodcock. I guess you’re just going to have to pass me anyway.”

“It’s not going to work like that this time, Bobby. Either you pass this class or I hang your sorry ass in front of my fireplace. It’s strictly up to you, honey. So what’s it going to be?”

He looked at me for a long moment. I could see I’d gotten him to at least think about it. I was only ten years older than he, so he must have thought I was joking.

He smirked as he tried to call my bluff by saying, “Miss Woodcock, you haven’t got the balls.”

“I’m sure you’ve got plenty of balls for the both of us, Bobby.” I paused to look at his crotch admiringly, smiling sweetly before I went on. “But rest assured: I will hang you if you fail this class. What… you don’t believe me?”

“No, Miss Woodcock; I don’t.”

“Didn’t you read the paperwork you signed that you brought into my class?” He just looked at me blankly.

“That’s the issue here, Bobby. We take great pride here at Dolcett High in graduating our seniors. If you can’t pass English, I get to hang you personally.”

“That’s bullshit, Miss Woodcock… uh, ma’am!”

“Oh? Allow me to read this little sentence in the paperwork you tried to sign.”

I pulled out his file and found the paperwork he’d brought with him that first day. I skimmed through it until I came to the pertinent section. Then I read it aloud to him.

“I, the undersigned, do solemnly agree that if I cannot pass remedial English, the teacher of said class… That’s me, Mr. Faraday… has full permission and authority to execute me at his or her leisure with any measure he or she deems appropriate, my body to be provided to the school cafeteria for the following day’s lunch.”

He stared at me for a long moment, the smirk frozen on his face. Then his expression morphed to uncertainty. I smiled at him as I told him, “I like hangings, Bobby. I like it when a boy’s cock hardens and spurts its load as he dies.”

Up to this point I’d only witnessed a couple of hangings as an interested spectator, paying close attention to the procedure. I suspected sooner or later I would be involved in hangings of my own. It didn’t look like there was much to it other than having a location and the equipment necessary to carry one out.

“I won’t let you hang me, Miss Woodcock. You can count on that.” He sounded determined.

“I see. Then you give me no choice but to turn you over to the Home Ec Department. I hear this semester’s lab work involves spitting and roasting live human beings. You know they either process volunteers or they gather seniors who are failing their classes. At the moment I’d say your situation doesn’t look very promising.”

He looked at me for a long moment. I could tell he was thinking it over, perhaps wondering if he should try calling my bluff again. Then his expression softened.

“Miss Woodcock, you’ve got to help me pass remedial English. I don’t want to hang. And I sure as hell don’t want to be spit-roasted while I’m alive to feel it.”

I nodded understandingly. “Just meet me halfway, Bobby; that’s all I ask. Meet me halfway and I’ll help you earn that C you’ll need to get into City University. Now go home and study your ass off. You’re excused.” And with that he slowly walked out of the room, having been given a whole lot more to think about than he’d probably anticipated.

—

I did everything I could with that class. I sometimes dressed provocatively to encourage them, and I tried to make sure they understood the difference between adjectives and adverbs. But Bobby didn’t seem to be getting the hang of it, if you’ll pardon the pun.

He didn’t get an F on the first exam I passed out to the class. Actually it was more like a G or an H; it was that bad. I decided I had to show him I meant business.

When class was over I invited Bobby to come over to my house after supper. He showed up promptly at 7. I think he was expecting me to cave in and accept the inevitable. I made sure he thought differently about his situation.

When he showed up I was all dressed up in a sexy police woman’s outfit. I had a noose all set up in my living room above the oak floor right in front of the fireplace. In my hands hung a set of handcuffs as I smiled seductively at him.

“Miss Woodcock?” he gasped in alarm. I couldn’t tell if he was more turned on at my outfit or more unnerved at what appeared to be a functional noose dangling from my ceiling.

“Right over here, Bobby,” I said with a smile as I grabbed onto the coil. “You were warned if you failed to pass one of my exams.” I had to disguise the excitement I felt at that moment.

He gulped as he started panting for breath. For a minute there I wondered if I was going to have a runner on my hands. Then he meekly came over, which actually surprised me a little.

I had him stand directly in front of the noose. It dangled from a pulley hooked into a beam in the ceiling overhead. The coil was thick and white with 13 nice, sturdy loops.

He went pale as it framed his face. “This is a momentous occasion for me, Bobby. You’re going to be my first hanging.” Then I made a show of cuffing his arms behind his back.

I brought the noose down around his neck and snugged it nice and tight, making sure the knot was behind his left ear. The poor boy was so scared that he promptly wet himself. A dark stain appeared in the crotch of his jeans.

“Can you feel that rope around your neck, Bobby? That’s what it’s going to feel like when I hang you… only much, much worse. But I’m not going to hang you tonight.”

He looked at me in surprise. Then I stepped behind him and removed the cuffs. Lastly I removed the noose from around his neck. The look of relief on his face made me smile.

“Mr. Faraday, I’m going to make you a deal. Your score was so low on this last exam I could hardly find it. So I want to give you a chance to improve. I’ll tell you what I’ll do. You get that grade up to a D and I’ll give you a blowjob as a reward. How does that sound?”

He looked at me in surprise as I seductively rubbed his cock through his jeans. I could tell I’d caught him off-guard, going from death to sex in ten seconds flat. Then I smiled at him as I sweetened the pot.

“Mr. Faraday, get that grade up to a C and I’ll let you fuck me. How does that sound?”

His eyes widened with disbelief and excitement as I kept rubbing him. Then he smiled with relief as though he’d like that just fine. By now his cock was really starting to harden in his jeans.

“Work extra hard and get that grade up to a B and I’ll let you take my ass, Bobby. You’d love to shove this nice ‘woodcock’ of yours up my ass, wouldn’t you?” And with that I rubbed his bulge even harder.

He excitedly nodded his head as he hardened considerably. I could tell fucking Bobby would be a real treat. Then I soberly brought him back down to earth.

“If you fail another test, Bobby, I’m putting your head back in this noose. Is that clear?”

He gulped and nodded. Then I gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “I want you to pass my class, Bobby; I really do. I even want you to get into City University if that’s what you’d like. So go home and study your ass off for me, ok?”

He nodded with a mixture of relief and excitement. Then I sent him on his way. “Study hard for me, stud,” I said with a playful swat on his ass. It was a nice ass too, one I would not have minded playing with so long as he cooperated.

—

From that day on Mr. Faraday began to treat me much better, at least in private. He even toned it down whenever he was in class, although he still had a reputation he tried to maintain. Somehow I had to get him to pass remedial English.

A couple weeks later I sprung a pop quiz on my students. I had a few failures I was naturally concerned about. But Bobby’s score was the worst.

When I handed it back to him I simply told him, “My place, Mr. Faraday. 7 PM.” He gulped and nodded. My nipples hardened at the prospect of getting him all noosed up and dangling.

He arrived promptly at 7. Once more the coil was all set up and waiting for him. But his eyes popped out of his head when I made my entrance.

I was wearing a sexy schoolgirl outfit. The white top barely came down past my breasts, showing a ton of cleavage. My stomach was fully exposed, and I had a short pink skirt with black and white lines crisscrossing like one of those tablecloths at a pizza joint.

I smiled as I playfully dangled the cuffs again. “The noose is ready for you, Mr. Faraday.” Then I stepped over and grabbed the rope before telling him, “Would you please step this way?”

I half expected him to resist… even put up some sort of protest. For a moment he stood there numb with shock. Then he just came right over and stopped in front of the noose.

I could tell he was trembling a little. But he offered no resistance as I cuffed his arms behind his back. Then I went around in front of him.

I smiled as I took the noose framing his face and looped it around his throat. This time he didn’t wet himself. I was excited to see an erection begin to develop in his jeans.

“This will be my first hanging, Mr. Faraday, and I’m really excited about it. Aren’t you?” He just gasped for breath in response, his breathing heavy and labored.

“One thing you should know about me, Bobby,” I told him with a lascivious grin. “I’m a real fan of Angel Lust. That’s when a cock hardens as a boy like you gets ready to die. And I see your impending hanging is already having an effect on you. So let’s take a look, shall we?”

I unhooked his belt, unzipped his pants and then pulled them down his legs. His cock bulged noticeably through his tighty whities. Then I pulled them down as well so his “woodcock” could breathe free.

I watched as it twitched, pre-cum beginning to gather at the tip. Then I pulled on the free end of the rope a little. It tightened around his neck, causing his cock to stiffen even more.

“Feel that, Bobby? Your body knows it’s going to die, but your cock wants one last release. That’s how it works, you see. It’s so exciting seeing how hard you’ve become. It’s making me so fucking wet with arousal. I may have to use my rabbit later on after you’re dead.”

I paused for dramatic effect. Regretfully I removed the rope from around his neck. Then I freed his hands from behind his back before telling him, “Pull your pants back up, Mr. Faraday.”

He looked at me in shock before gratefully pulling them up. He was astonished as he stammered, “You’re… you’re not going to hang me tonight, Miss Woodcock?”

“No Bobby; I’m not. Not tonight anyway. You may have failed the quiz I gave you. But you scored a couple points better than your last exam. That shows improvement. I certainly can’t hang you for showing improvement now, can I?”

“I… I sure appreciate that, M-Miss Woodcock.”

He finished buckling his belt. He certainly looked relieved as hell. But I thought I saw a flash of something else in his eyes that made me wonder.

“You’ve been trying your best in class, Bobby; I can certainly appreciate that. But you’ve got to stop chasing girls around campus and focus on your studies, understand? I’m sure I don’t have to spell out the consequences if you fail, do I?”

He shook his head… “No, Ma’am.”

“Now scoot,” I told him. Then I gave him another encouraging swat on his ass as he headed out the door. I was really hoping his scores would get better so I’d get a chance to play with that ass while he was fucking me.

2018 (written Oct 13 ’18 by riwa)

Part 2

I planned a big test for the students in two weeks’ time to gauge their progress. I gave it to them on Thursday. By Friday I had the results which I passed back out near the end of class.

As usual Mr. Faraday was dead last, although he’d managed to raise his score a couple more points. “My place, Bobby,” I said perfunctorily as I handed him the results. “Tonight.” I didn’t have to tell him the time or what lay in store for him.

There was a buzz among the other students. Some of them must have thought I was giving him some special “tutoring”. I didn’t care as I figured they were probably going to think what they were going to think anyway.

When he arrived I was in a grey blouse with the top buttons open to reveal my cleavage. At least my black skirt was modest. The cuffs dangled in my hand, the noose already set up.

I smiled at him with anticipation. Then I shook my head as I sighed, “Bobby – Bobby – Bobby. What am I going to do with you?”

He only paused a moment before he came right over and stood in front of the noose. His submissive attitude surprised me as it did not match his reputation in class. I decided to show him how serious I was.

“Drop your jeans, Bobby. Briefs too.”

He gulped and nodded as he unbuckled his belt, unzipped his fly, and then lowered the whole thing. Almost immediately his dick sprang to life. I smiled appreciatively as I cuffed his wrists behind his back.

“My – my, Bobby. Is that your ‘woodcock’? Or are you just happy to see me?” He didn’t respond.

I carefully looped the rope around his neck, watching to see what his dick would do. It seemed to jump the moment the rope made contact with flesh. Then I pulled the noose tight, causing his cock to harden even more.

“Bobby – Bobby – Bobby. You keep hanging around ‘F’ territory, don’t you. Am I going to have to give you a little demonstration to show I mean business?” And with that I pulled on the rope.

It tightened as I pulled him up onto his toes before securing the rope in the pulley. Then I came around front and smiled at him. He rasped for breath as he shuffled around on his toes.

“Bobby, I don’t know whether I want to pass you or hang you. Your ‘woodcock’ sure looks nice though.” Then I reached out and stroked it.

He rasped and gurgled as it twitched in my hand. “My – my, Bobby. You seem to like that, don’t you.”

I stroked it again, noticing how it twitched in my grasp. “Hard to breathe, Bobby? It’ll get even harder once you’re airborne. You know that’s not good for your health, right?”

I continued to stroke him as he shuffled around on his feet. A moment later he started spurting. I got quite a bit all over my hand.

I smiled as I went around back, grabbed a towel and cleaned myself up. Then I worked the rope to the pulley. It loosened and let him back down so I could remove the noose from around his neck.

“Bobby?” I said to him as I freed him from the cuffs. “You realize at this rate we’re never going to fuck, right? But it sure looks like you’ll soon be doing a wonderful dance for me. Consider the handjob I just gave you as a little extra motivation as well as a small reward. After all, you did raise your score a few more points.” Then I sighed heavily.

“If we’re going to fuck, it looks like I’ll have to do it after you’re dead. I hope you won’t mind if I enjoy a little necro sex with you after you’re gone. Afterwards they’ll be taking your body to the cafeteria.”

He seemed apologetic. “I’m really sorry, Miss Woodcock. I’m doing my best.” But I sensed something wasn’t quite right, as though he’d somehow resigned himself to his fate. Was I going to fail him in more ways than one?

“Are you sure, Bobby? I wonder. I’m getting reports you’ve been out late at night with a couple of seniors. Is this true?”

“I’ll study harder, Miss Woodcock. I promise.”

“You’d better, Bobby. You still have to raise your test scores just to reach an F. But you are getting closer.”

“Thank you, Miss Woodcock.” And with that he was dressed and out the door as though nothing had happened. It made me wonder what he was going to tell all those girls he was fucking.

—

Two weeks later I tried another pop quiz. Many of the students were making a concerted effort judging by the scores I saw. Bobby was also getting better, but he was still falling short.

When I handed the quiz back to him I didn’t have to say a word. He just looked at me and mouthed “7 PM?” I nodded as I went down the row passing back quizzes.

Bobby showed up promptly at 7. The noose was already in place waiting for him. I stood there in the black, flower print dress I’d worn to class.

I shook my head and sighed heavily. This time the handcuffs sat on the edge of the fireplace eagerly waiting to be clatched onto his wrists. I paused a moment to allow him to take it all in.

He didn’t say a word as he looked at everything for a long moment. Then he gave me a questioning look. I just nodded soberly.

He quietly walked over to the noose without a word of protest. He even dropped his jeans and briefs without my asking. I stood there amazed how such an arrogant stud in class could be so submissive with me. Maybe it was the fear of being spitted in Home Economics that had softened him in my presence.

I watched with a mixture of surprise and amusement as he grabbed the noose himself. His cock was already hardening as he carefully looped it around his neck. He looked at me before carefully snugging it. Then he reached for the free end of the rope and slowly pulled.

Amazingly he actually worked himself up onto his toes. He rasped and gurgled as his cock got hard. I dispensed with the cuffs for the time being.

I couldn’t resist walking up behind him, reaching around and stroking his erection. Then I told him, “You know, Bobby? If I didn’t know any better I’d say it looks like you actually want to hang for me.”

He tipped his head back and moaned as I pulled on his manhood. Pre-cum started to appear at the tip. The crazy kid actually seemed willing to hang for me.

“Well, Bobby? You failed again. This time it’s going to cost you. Now I want you to masturbate for me as I hang your ass.”

I let go of his cock and watched as he grabbed himself. He started stroking while struggling to get a good breath of air down his throat. That’s when I put my weight into the free end of the rope.

Up he went, about 4 inches off the floor. One hand instinctively reached up for the rope above his head. The other kept stroking his meat.

He kicked, swung and stroked, his mind appearing to send mixed signals. Once he reached up with both hands for the rope above his head. Then he reached back down and stroked his meat. A moment later he let out a loud “GAWK” as his cock spurted.

I grabbed the rope and jerked on the pulley until it released, letting him back down. He actually collapsed onto the floor where I had to work to loosen the rope around his neck. He panted for breath, his cock and hand all sticky.

He looked up at me apologetically. “I’m s-sorry, Miss Woodcock. I just… I just don’t… I don’t know why I can’t…”

“Rachel Whorewood tells me you’ve shared with her how I’ve been noosing you up here at my place. She seems to think it’s rather hot picturing you dangling in the air. She’s also shared with me how she wonders if maybe you might like it just a little too much.”

He blushed as he lowered his head, making me wonder if I’d come pretty close to the truth. Then he hurriedly got dressed. “Not so fast, Bobby,” I told him sternly.

He looked at me and froze as I gave him an ominous look. “There’s a midterm test coming up in two weeks. You’d better damn well pass it, Bobby. Otherwise you might find yourself hanging much longer in front of my fireplace. You understand what that might mean; don’t you, Mr. Faraday?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Now get out of here and bury your nose in that English book. You got that?”

“Yes, ma’am.” And with that he was out the door and gone.

—

Rachel came up to me a couple days later. She told me Bobby had shared with her his latest hanging adventure. Then she shared with me how hot it had sounded.

“Hun, you’re barely passing the class as it is. Don’t you think the two of you should spend more time studying and less time bonking each other silly?”

“We’ll do our best, Miss Woodcock.”

“You’d damn well better… for both your sakes.” If she was deliberately bringing Mr. Faraday down just to get me to hang him then I planned on making sure it would cost her dearly, especially if she didn’t pass my class.

—

Two weeks later I passed out the midterm exam on Friday. The room was quiet as everyone went to work. Then they turned in their tests before heading home for the day.

The students had all weekend to think about their grades. But I suspected most of them would just party without a care in the world. I decided to put off grading the exam until later.

I waited until Sunday night before grading them. I scowled when I finished going over Mr. Faraday’s exam. This time Bobby’s score was a couple points worse. Maybe it was time to cut my losses.

On Monday I handed the tests back, expressing my pleasure at the overall improvement of the grades. But I didn’t say a word to Bobby as I gave him back his paper. He just stared at the grade marked in the upper right hand corner. Then I went to the front of the class and began teaching about participles as though the test scores had been forgotten.

At 7 PM he showed up to my home without being asked or sent for. I wasn’t at all surprised that Rachel Whorewood was with him. I don’t know if that was his choice, hers or both.

The noose was ready for him, and so was I. I wore a tight, white blouse that struggled to contain my breasts. A short red skirt, garter and black heels completed my ensemble.

I had a ruler in my hand as I looked at them both. I could tell by the expressions on their faces they were stunned at my outfit. I could have easily fucked the both of them and they probably wouldn’t have stopped me.

I looked sternly at Rachel before asking, “Why are you here, Miss Whorewood?”

“I just wanted to be here for moral support for Bobby, Miss Woodcock.”

“You mean you wanted to be here to watch me hang him to death; isn’t that right?” She blushed as she lowered her head. Bobby gulped as he too lowered his head submissively.

Without even being told, my male student failing remedial English dutifully walked over to the noose as though knowing what was expected of him. I blurted out, “Freeze, Mr. Faraday.” He stopped dead in his tracks.

“Strip, Mr. Faraday.”

He looked at Rachel for a moment before he quietly started to remove his jeans. I smacked the ruler in my hand as I told him, “All of it, Mr. Faraday!”

He looked at me for a long moment. Then he removed his shirt, shoes and socks as well. It took no time at all for his cock to get nice and hard.

“Give your clothes to Miss Whorewood. She can put them on that divan over there for me. After all, you certainly won’t be needing them anymore after tonight.”

He gulped and nodded as he handed over his clothes to her. She accepted them before carrying them over and dropping them on the furniture. Then she hurried back, not wanting to miss a thing.

“Noose yourself, Mr. Faraday. You know the drill.”

He looked at me and then at Rachel before pulling the noose down around his neck. He grabbed the free end dangling nearby and pulled the rope snug. It tightened the knot behind his left ear.

I looked at him closely. I couldn’t quite tell if he was frightened or excited by the whole thing. Miss Whorewood certainly seemed to be breathing heavily.

“Now pull yourself up onto your toes, Mr. Faraday.”

His cock was hard and dripping as he tugged on the rope. He pulled so hard he almost pulled himself completely off the floor. The pulley caught the rope and locked it off for him.

He gawked as his cock jumped and twitched, leaking pre-cum off the tip. “Miss Whorewood,” I said as I hefted the cuffs in her direction. “Please give these to Mr. Faraday.”

She came over and took them from me. Then she walked them back to Bobby who was shuffling around on his toes. He reached out and took them from her with what appeared to be trembling hands.

“Put them on yourself, Mr. Faraday. Do it now please.”

He looked at Rachel and I before cuffing one wrist, still struggling to get a full breath. He obediently brought his arms behind his back. Then he cuffed his other one.

“Does this excite you, Mr. Faraday? Does it turn you on knowing you’re going to hang in front of Miss Whorewood and myself?”

Despite his distress he managed to give me a nod. I should’ve known. Then I turned to his companion.

“Does this excite you too, Miss Whorewood?”

“Y-yes, ma’am, it does.” I could see her nipples protruding through that braless red tank top she was wearing that was showing off a ton of cleavage.

“Do you want her to stay here and watch you hang, Mr. Faraday?” He rasped as he nodded in the affirmative.

“Do you want to watch him hang, Miss Whorewood?” She shamefully nodded as well. By then I was so horny I was sure I was going to cream myself.

“Grab that rope and pull on it, Miss Whorewood. Pull on it as hard as you can.”

She looked at me for a long moment, shocked at my command. Then she stepped up and grabbed the loose rope dangling right there next to Bobby. The two students gave each other a long look. Then she pulled just as hard as she could.

Bobby went up almost a foot into the air before the pulley locked the rope in place. Almost immediately he started kicking and twisting. His arms jerked behind his back as his cock spurted.

Robert Faraday danced in the noose as though he was born to it. Rachel Whorewood gasped as she panted for breath, her eyes wide. Then I saw her reach under that pitifully short, pink skirt she was wearing to finger what I assumed to be an exposed crotch with no panties covering it.

Bobby rasped for breath as he choked and kicked. He swung back and forth, his legs searching for the floor and then kicking everywhere else. His cock didn’t soften very much, even after he had spurted.

I stood there enthralled at his dance. I was also turned on the way Rachel was getting off to his hanging. I hadn’t planned on hanging anyone for real. But I felt I had to follow through. That way word would get around that any future class I taught would know just how serious I was about passing and failing my students.

Bobby kicked less and less as his arms jerked behind his back. His cock twitched and jumped as well. Then I told Rachel, “Now suck his dick until he cums again, Miss Whorewood.”

She stepped forward and crouched in order to get at it. Then she took it into her mouth. I could tell by the way she deep-throated it she had a lot of experience. This was probably not the first time she’d sucked Bobby’s cock.

Mr. Faraday settled down until there were only stray muscle twitches. His cock stiffened noticeably. Then Rachel groaned as she got a load in her mouth that leaked out and dribbled down her chin.

“Now step away, Miss Whorewood.” She did as instructed. We watched Bobby’s cock soften until a drizzle of urine came out, splattering my oak floor.

I went over to the divan where I had a good view of Bobby’s dangling corpse. “Now get over here, Miss Whorewood,” I demanded as I pulled up my short skirt, revealing I too was not wearing panties. “Lick my cunt until I tell you to stop.”

She came over, dutifully knelt on the floor and proceeded to get me off. I stretched back and enjoyed her tongue as I stared at Robert Faraday’s naked, dangling body. She licked me for a good half hour before I was satisfied.

I went to my bedroom and retrieved good ol’ Doc Johnson. I undressed and strapped all nine, thick inches of him around my waist. Then I went back out and gave Rachel Whorewood the fucking of her life.

I warned her she’d better study her ass of or the cafeteria was going to be serving two of my students for lunch. Then I sent her home. One month later I hanged my second student when Rachel failed to pass the next exam.

I had my suspicions about her. She was approaching C level when she miserably failed that last test. It made me question whether or not she wanted to go for a ride in my noose just like Mr. Faraday. Sometimes you’ve got to wonder about these crazy kids…

2018 (written Oct 28 ’18 by riwa)

Posted in Asphyxia Stories, Male stories | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Ella’s dunking torture 4.3 (6)

Posted on March 18, 2019 by riwa

“YOU CAN’T FUCKING DO THIS TO ME!” the woman bellowed indignantly as I held her head up by a handful of her hair. She was lying face down in a shallow, inflatable pool, naked except for her hosiery. She was secured and helpless. There wasn’t very much water in the little pool I was kneeling in. But it was certainly enough to drown her.

“Perhaps you should show the bitch what we can and can’t do,” my employer suggested casually. Amber sat in a nearby patio chair with a drink in her hand, watching with sadistic glee.

Oddly she’d decided to observe the proceedings in her birthday suit. I noticed immediately that her nipples were hard. I don’t think it was because of my muscular physique. I think it had to do with the squirming, bubbling bitch I had my hands on.

I dutifully submerged the helpless agent. She’d been caught snooping around the property. I’d simply snuck up behind her and strangled her into unconsciousness. Upon bringing her limp body to my employer, Amber had decided that unconscious woman might prove to be amusing. Now the foolish bitch was in the inflatable pool in a soundproof room complete with concrete floor and a drain, kicking up a storm and bubbling helplessly.

“Keep her down a few moments longer,” Amber stated with a nonchalant wave of her hand. “I wish to see the slut bubble and struggle.” Almost immediately there was a bubbly cry from underwater, indicating the agent had heard her.

I held her down easily, watching my employer for any sign I should bring her up. Amber leaned forward, her eyes flashing sadistically. Her breath seemed to catch in her throat as I heard her quietly murmur, “Yes, bitch… put up a struggle… after all, you don’t want to drown now; do you?”

“Let her up,” she finally told me. I pulled the agent up out of the water by her hair. She gasped madly for breath. Then the feisty woman started mouthing off again.

“YOU’LL NEVER GET AWAY WITH THIS! MY PEOPLE KNOW I’M HERE! IN TEN MINUTES THIS PLACE IS GONNA BE CRAWLING WITH FEDS!”

“Please show the foolish lady what I think of her words,” Amber told me, sighing heavily.

Once more I forced the agent’s head down into the water. The slut bubbled like mad as she thrashed about. But I had a good grip on both her head and the bindings to her wrists. She wasn’t going anywhere.

“Keep her down a bit longer this time,” my employer said loudly, wanting the helpless agent hear her command to me. “Show the slut who’s in charge here.” The naked woman cried out, bubbling like mad as her legs kicked all over the place. If she wasn’t careful she was going to drown herself.

“Have I made it clear who’s in charge?” my employer called out to the bubbling young woman. “Pull her up please. Allow the bitch to answer.”

I pulled her head back up, allowing her to gasp madly for breath. “You were saying, my dear?” Amber challenged. “No one knows you’re here. No one’s coming to your rescue. So would you care to revise your bullshit story?”

“Go to hell!” the woman sputtered.

“That’s a little harsh,” Amber observed with a wicked smile. “Such a defiant thing. Perhaps you should dunk the slut until she learns some manners.”

“YOU’LL PAY FOR THIS – URBLGRUBLG!” That’s when I shoved her down and got a corresponding eruption of air as she thrashed about.

“Keep the bitch down even longer,” my employer told me as she leaned forward. She seemed enthusiastic watching the naked woman suffer. I noticed her right hand absent-mindedly stroking herself down below.

The agent kicked and thrashed about, bubbling like crazy. I was told to bring her up and roll her over onto her back. “GET OFF ME!” she screamed when she could speak. “YOU BETTER LET ME GO RIGHT NOW, YOU BITCH!” Her nipples were hard as she panted like crazy. Even I was starting to get turned on by her suffering.

“Now why would I want to do that?” Amber asked with a sinister smile. “You’re in no position to demand anything from me.”

“YOU LET ME GO!” And with a nod from my employer I submerged her once more, this time face up.

She cried out, her eyes wide as she looked up at the surface just a few inches above her head. She wriggled like mad, grunting and bubbling. Amber leaned forward with interest, her eyes glued to the squirming young woman.

“Is the bitch getting off on this? Her nipples are showing. Pull the slut up!”

I did as I was told until the agent came up gasping and sputtering. “Let her go,” Amber instructed. I moved out of the way, leaving our captive struggling to sit upright.

There was a drugged look in the woman’s eyes. Her face looked a little flushed. My employer picked up on it at once.

“Well, well. Is the slut getting off on this? Do you like being forced underwater?”

“Go to hell!” the agent panted tiredly.

Amber looked at the woman’s crotch, focusing on the ropes that wound through there. There appeared to be some sort of vaginal fluid staining the nylons. My employer’s eyes narrowed coldly.

“I think the bitch got off on being manhandled and submerged,” Amber chuckled sinisterly. “Tell me, bitch. Do you like the way that rope digs through your pussy?”

“FUCK YOU!”

“See that she gets off again.”

The woman cried out as I forced her head back down. I grabbed the ropes and pulled on them as I forced her head down. She shook her head as her eyes rolled until she bubbled helplessly.

Amber leaned forward on the edge of her chair, rubbing herself as the naked woman wriggled and squirmed. “Make her cum,” my employer demanded. So I grabbed the ropes and jerked on them, causing them to dig into the agent’s nylon-covered pussy.

It seemed to have a noticeable effect. The helpless woman twisted her head back and forth as bubbles spewed out of her mouth. But I wasn’t entirely certain I was achieving my employer’s wishes.

“Keep her down until she cums!” Amber demanded.

A cry of alarm burst up out of the agent’s mouth in an explosion of bubbles. A moment later her whole body seemed to stiffen. Then she shuddered like mad as she writhed about in helpless agony. “Now you can pull her up” and I lifted her head up out of the water.

The agent’s eyes looked even more dazed. Her defiance was gone. All that was left was a mass of trembling flesh.

Amber’s eyes gleamed sadistically. She seemed to be getting off on the agent’s misery. “Not so defiant now, are we?” she cackled with sadistic glee.

The agent moaned weakly, too exhausted to deliver a smart remark. “Now that we’ve found your weak spot, I think we should enjoy ourselves, my dear. What do you think?” She smiled at me as she added, “Think the bitch will cum while you’re drowning her?”

The woman shook her head, her eyes wide in alarm. “Turn her over and dunk the slut! You’ll know when to bring her back up!” The agent let out a cry as I turned her over and forced her head back down until she burbled helplessly.

My employer watched with sadistic glee as I kept her down. Amber kept threatening to drown her, suggesting that perhaps I should delay lifting her head back up. She said it would be a shame if the slut couldn’t hold her breath and drowned on us.

“Accidents happen all the time, even in pools as small as the one you’re in, my dear. “It would certainly be a shame if you drowned in there.

The agent cried out with a bubble, her body writhing uncontrollably. Her hands flexed as her feet curled, signs my employer instantly recognized. “So the slut’s cumming again, is she? Perhaps she’d like to drown for us.”

I heard a sharp cry and turned to look. My employer had thrust several fingers into her dripping pussy. She was gasping and moaning, clearly caught up in a climax of her own. She actually appeared to be getting off watching the agent suffer. I found it rather arousing to observe.

The woman in my grasp suddenly went limp as a stream of bubbles dribbled freely out of her mouth. Amber gasped, “Pull her up – pull her up! We don’t want to drown her… well, not yet anyway. This is much too entertaining.” She smiled evilly.

I pulled up the limp body and turned her over. She looked drugged and dazed, her body limp and yielding. “That’s incredible!” my employer observed breathlessly. Then she gave me a sadistic grin.

“Let the slut catch her breath. Then we’ll go again. I want to wring all the orgasms out of her body before she meets her untimely demise.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I responded.

I looked at the agent with a merciless expression. She looked at me with despair, understanding she’d fallen into the wrong hands. There would be no escape.

“Get your breath back, honey,” Amber told her with a wicked smile. “Then we’ll go again. I want you totally wrung out when we finally drown you.” The foolish agent moaned weakly at the torment that awaited her before her lungs were to be filled with fluid.

2010; 2018 (written Jan 22 ’10; ed. Nov 25 ’18 by riwa)

(Preview pictures are from H2OGEMS and are used for illustration purposes.)

Posted in Drowning Stories, Picture Stories | Tagged , | 1 Comment

Going out in style 3.8 (4)

Posted on March 18, 2019 by riwa

Bertrand Chowsman found an unlocked window to the basement. He crawled inside and worked his way through the building until he came to the back door and let the three actresses inside. He still could not believe they really wanted to do this.

“Are you ladies sure about this?” he asked, still finding the whole thing hard to digest.

“Are you sure that thing will work?” Peggy Antwerp replied with a question of her own, motioning at the equipment he’d brought along.

“Ladies, I’ve been taking quality photographs for five years now. I can’t help it if nobody wants to hire me.”

“Well, nobody wants to hire us either,” Gwen Ustich lamented, the shortest of the three. “I guess it didn’t matter how many times I fucked Mack on his casting couch. He had nothing for me. All he wanted to do was fuck me.”

“Same complaint here,” Dorothy LePerch added with a sigh. “It’s been months of nothing but broken promise after broken promise.”

“At least you’re going to be famous now, Bert,” Peggy told him with a smile. “Your photographs will be the talk of Hollywood.”

“I don’t know,” he replied dubiously. “Who the hell am I going to show them to? Who’s going to believe me? Won’t they throw me in jail?”

“Just think of the stink you can cause if they threaten you with jail time,” Gwen reminded him.

They quietly moved through the darkened building to the stage. Bert and Peggy had little lanterns they’d brought along to help illuminate the way. They finally found the switch for the stage lights and turned them on, illuminating it with a soft glow.

The three girls looked around wistfully. “Well, we finally made it here,” Dorothy observed with a heavy sigh.

“Yeah, but it’s going to be a one-time performance to an empty house,” Peggy replied sadly.

“Bert here will make sure we’re famous,” Gwen told them. “Let’s look around back. Bert, you said we’d find what we needed behind the stage, right?”

“Should be back there somewhere, ladies.” Then he shook his head as he helped them with their search.

They rummaged around in back until they found three lengths of nylon rope used for hefting displays into the air. Meanwhile there were plenty of metal frames and beams dangling from above to hold the curtains and displays in place. Bert found one that looked promising.

He snooped around some control panels until he found a lever that looked like it might work. He pulled it and watched as the metal bar came down. It looked like it would work just fine.

The ladies stood under the bar with their ropes in hand. Each one quietly began to form one end into a noose. “Thirteen loops? Gwen asked softly, her voice betraying her wavering nerves as she glanced at her companions.

“What does it matter so long as they work?” Peg acknowledged her companion’s noose and said it was coming along just fine before going back to her own. After all, they’d agreed to personally prepare their own ropes.

They finished the nooses before checking each one to make sure they functioned properly. Then they tied them off to the metal bar Bert had lowered. “Better check the weight, girls,” Peg said quietly.

She pulled on her rope as the others pulled on theirs. They tried to lift their legs up off the floor of the stage, seeing if the bar could hold their combined weight. It swayed and creaked a little, but otherwise it seemed strong enough. Besides, the ladies didn’t weigh all that much.

“Do we need chairs, Bert?” Dorothy asked uncertainly. Bertrand went back over to the lever and moved it in the opposite direction. Sandbags behind the backdrop lowered, causing the bar to rise back up.

“No, girls,” he told them quietly. “I think this will do it. Lever down; bar comes down. Lever up; bar goes up. It looks like there’s enough counterweight to keep you aloft.”

“Lucky guy,” Peggy told him with a smile. “I guess you get to serve as our executioner.” But Bert hadn’t paid attention to her words as he was checking around other switches.

He threw one out of curiosity to see if it meant what was marked. The sound of applause suddenly rang out all around them. The girls turned to look at the empty rows of seats in astonishment.

“What the hell was that, Bert?” The sound abruptly died off.

“I guess some actors need fake applause to get the audience to stand up and clap, Peg. I guess everybody has an ego to stroke.”

“Including us?” Peggy observed sadly. The others looked at her but said nothing. Each one secretly harbored the pain of not getting to experience for themselves the thrill of a cheering throng.

“I like it,” Gwen finally told him. “Can you play it while we’re hanging?”

“Great idea,” Dorothy added with a smile, feeling her mood lighten. “We’ll finally get the cheers we rightfully deserve.”

“Girls, really. This is totally insane.”

Bert came out, only to discover the stage was empty. He looked all around in confusion. “Now where the hell did you ladies go?”

“Back here, Bert,” Peggy called out from behind a partition “We’re changing into proper attire for our last performance. You can get your equipment ready while we’re back here.”

“Crazy girls,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head as he went and got his camera ready on its tripod.

He couldn’t believe it when they’d originally sought him out. At first he’d hoped it was a legitimate proposition that might propel him on his way to something substantial. He couldn’t believe what they wanted him to do for them. The only reason he was even going through with it was the fact they’d given him their life savings, a tidy sum considering what they had left on hand and what they were proposing.

He was stunned when they came out from behind the partition. All three were completely nude. He tried to stutter something as they came forward, but the words failed him. He had no idea he would be treated to this!

“Well, Bert?” Peggy asked, pirouetting before him. “What do you think?”

“Damn, girls! Why aren’t you in show business?”

“Producers, directors, casting agents – I tried everyone,” Dorothy sighed. “At least now I’ll be noticed with your pictures floating around out there. Make sure every newspaper in the country gets a copy, ok?”

“We’ll finally be famous,” Peggy added with a wistful sigh.

“Get a shot of us with our nooses,” Gwen directed. “Show everyone we did this on purpose.”

“Ok, girls. If you say so.”

Bert went behind his camera and lined them up. All three grabbed each other’s hand and held it up in unison with their nooses in view. They posed until he snapped off a couple of pictures.

“Ok, ladies. Now what?”

“Now we hang of course,” Peggy told him with a smile. She’d been feeling a little anxious. But now she was starting to get into it. Or maybe she just wanted to get it over with before she changed her mind.

“Just like that?”

“Just like that,” Dorothy told him. “Although I was wondering…” She paused as though considering something.

“Wondering about what?”

“Shouldn’t we have our arms tied behind our backs? To show the industry how they held us captive to a system that never did what it promised?”

Gwen and Peggy looked at her for a moment. Then they nodded in agreement. It seemed rather fitting actually.

“Sounds good to me,” Peg verbalized for them all. “Can you find a little more rope to tie our arms behind our backs with?”

“Girls, I don’t know about all this. Do you really want to go through with this?”

“You took our money, Bert. Aren’t you going to honor our last request?”

He looked at Gwen for a long moment. He hated to see her beauty destroyed with something so cruel as a noose. But they seemed determined to go through with it.

“I’ll go look.” Then he went behind the backdrop again as the ladies began whispering amongst themselves.

He emerged with three small lengths of rope. “Will this do?”

“Perfect, Bert,” Peggy observed with a smile.

She nodded at her two companions. Then they all got down onto their knees. Together they obediently brought their arms behind their backs.

“Girls, you, uh… you don’t have to be on your, uh… oh never mind.” Then he began securing each woman’s hands behind her back.

“Ok,” he said as he finished binding Dorothy’s wrists together. “Anything else?”

Gwen suggested, “How about another picture with us bound and on our knees?”

“Good idea,” Dorothy added. “It will show us in our proper role of subservience. Besides, I don’t know how many times I found myself in this position trying to suck my way into a movie role.” The other ladies nodded as they murmured their agreement at her observation.

Bertrand went behind his camera and adjusted the focus. Then he snapped the picture. “Got it?” Peggy asked, sounding both nervous and excited.

“I got a picture of you three on your knees with the nooses above your heads.”

“Perfect,” Gwen said to him.

“There’s just one more thing, Bert.”

“One more thing, Dorothy?? Ladies, this is hard enough for me as it is. You have no idea how much it pains me to hang you like this!”

“Does it really bother you, Bert?” Dorothy asked with a coy smile. “It looks like you might not be so bothered after all.”

“What?” In response she just smiled and licked her lips at the bulge she saw in his pants.

Gwen saw it too. “I think you’re right, Dorothy. He seems excited at the prospect of watching us hang.”

“Shouldn’t we tip the executioner with a last blowjob?”

“Good idea, Peg,” Dorothy said with a smile. “How about it, Bert? Interested in giving the condemned their last meal? Might be your last chance.”

“C’mon, Bert,” Gwen added. “It’s not like we haven’t done it before.”

“Uh… ladies I, uh… oh hell.”

He slowly pulled down his pants and briefs, displaying an embarrassing erection. He looked to be a good six and a half inches. The ladies all smiled and licked their lips.

“Ok, Bert. Bring it on over. We’re in the appropriate position, and as our executioner you’re certainly entitled to a little extra compensation.”

“Aren’t you ladies frightened?”

“Of course we are,” Gwen told him. “We just need a little something to focus on right now as a distraction. Besides, you really do look like you’re going to enjoy this. I hope you’ll ‘salute’ us with your cock as we hang for you.” The other ladies chuckled at her remark.

Bert stepped up to Dorothy first. She gave him a good sucking before he moved over to Gwen. She eagerly bobbed up and down on his cock before he pulled out and gave Peggy a turn.

He went up and down the line, allowing them to hungrily suck his dick. It was shameful and yet terribly erotic. He couldn’t believe these three would-be actresses were sucking his cock before getting ready to hang for him.

“I’m about ready to cum. Who do I give it to?”

“Give it to Dorothy. It was her idea.”

“Bert, make me wear it for all the times I had egg on my face after sucking to get a part and then not getting a damned thing.”

Dorothy gave him a good sucking until he began to gasp. He pulled out and spurted all over her face. She moaned like a whore as the other two jealously looked on. Peggy couldn’t help muttering, “Lucky bitch.”

Bertrand helped them to their feet. He had to lower the bar a little more so he could get the nooses around their necks. He saw how they were going to be hanging pretty close together.

His hands trembled as he began looping each coil around each neck. He cinched Dorothy up last. She thanked him for the privilege of sucking him and then wearing his cum on her face with pride. She told him she hoped they all put on a good dance for him and to get as many pictures as possible while they were still kicking.

Peggy told him, “Now take one more picture with the ropes around our necks please.” Bert nodded before going back behind the camera. They tried to smile for him as they nervously stood in place. But their faces faltered just a bit now that they were so close to the end.

He snapped off the picture. “I got it, girls. Anything else?”

“Now hang us, Bert,” Dorothy instructed. “And play that applause for us, ok? We want to go out in style.”

“Are you sure?”

“Do it, Bert!” Gwen declared, bucking up her courage. Peggy just nodded solemnly. “And keep your pants down so we can see your hard cock,” Dorothy added with a lustful smile.

He sighed heavily before heading over to the lever. They all stiffened with anticipation. A moment later the applause began.

All three tried to stand proudly at the faux adulation they were receiving. It was surreal for them to be standing naked onstage to an empty auditorium. It was going to be even more surreal the moment they found themselves hanging in midair.

Bert pushed the lever upward. The bar rose up, pulling the ropes with it. The three naked ladies were taken off their feet right up into the air.

Bertrand made sure they were a couple feet off the floor before he rushed back to his camera. The bar began to sway as Peggy and Dorothy began to kick while Gwen’s feet fluttered for solid footing. So far it was holding their weight

He focused on the image and then started taking pictures as they bumped into each other while struggling in their nooses. He was forced to separate the conflicted Bertrand Chowsman from the professional Bertrand Chowsman. After all, these ladies wanted good photographs. And he’d made a promise to them upon taking the last of their cash.

Gwen finally joined the dance as her legs began to kick. All three jerked and swayed, bouncing off each other as their legs went every which way. The bar jerked from their gyrations, making Bert stiffen with apprehension. But it seemed to be holding their weight just fine.

His cock had hardened back up, shaming him to no end. But this was what the three ladies wanted. Their beauty and sincerity made him want to do his very best for them. He just hoped it might shame someone in Hollywood who had previously dealt with these fine ladies. But he doubted it would have any lingering effects on any of the production studios…

Peggy had no idea it would hurt this much. But she’d agreed to go through with it like the others. She caught sight of Gwen struggling next to her and concluded her new-found friend was suffering every bit as much as she was.

Looking down she caught sight of Bert’s erection as she kicked and struggled. He seemed embarrassed by it as he kept his head behind the camera, snapping picture after picture. But he seemed to be deriving some sort of sexual pleasure out of it, judging by how hard his cock had become.

Peggy thought that was appropriate. All the studio heads had derived pleasure from her body. In a way she thought this was rather appropriate for the situation. It felt like the proper sendoff for a woman like her who had fucked to get into the door, only to be rewarded with spurting cocks and crushed dreams…

Gwen kicked and struggled, her arms jerking helplessly behind her back as she bounced off the bodies of her two companions on either side of her. It was getting harder and harder to pull in a breath of air. But she felt a strange warmth begin to blossom from within, manifesting down in her crotch.

Deep down she was glad she had sucked Bert’s cock along with the others. He deserved it for all the trouble they’d put him through. She hoped nothing bad would happen to him over this. She also hoped their pictures would be seen by the whole world and that they’d become way more famous after they were dead than when they had been alive.

She kicked and struggled as her throat closed off. It hurt like hell. Then she felt a hot flush as her body responded in orgasm. It seemed to soften the agony she was going through…

Dorothy did her best to put on a good show for Bert and the others. She kicked and twisted as the bar jerked them around, causing her to bounce off her shorter companion. Gwen’s legs briefly wrapped around her before letting go. Then she gurgled at the agony she was experiencing.

She heard the cheers echoing from the rafters. It made her kick a little harder. They were finally getting the applause they all deserved.

A surge of excitement fought through the pain to crest within her as her thighs rubbed together. There was a strange mixture of pain and pleasure flushing through her body. But it hurt so bad she was willing to accept any pleasurable feelings she might happen to experience.

She was glad she was wearing Bert’s cum on her face. Judging by his erection it looked like he was enjoying the show. And since this was the only production she would ever star in…well, along with her friends… she wanted it to be the best show ever. Then her throat closed off and her body responded by fighting even harder to breathe…

Bert’s cock stiffened noticeably as he focused on taking picture after picture. Gwen Ustich’s bladder suddenly gave way as urine trickled down her legs off her toes onto the floor. She seemed to be going first, and he tried to capture the moment on film.

Next to her Peggy Antwrep seemed to be rubbing her thighs together, or at least trying to. She dolphin kicked as she grunted her agony. Her face was turning a disturbing shade of purple.

On the other end of the bar Dorothy LePerch suddenly jerked hard as fluid spewed out of her crotch. It didn’t appear to be urine. She had actually sprayed from an orgasm that was part pain and part pleasure.

The ladies finally began to settle down, no longer bumping into each other. Peggy’s bladder gave way as she gently swung back and forth. Then Dorothy began dripping fluid off her toes as well.

The ladies had jerked against the bar, causing them to swing wildly. Now they began swaying together as though in synchronous unison. Bertrand snapped a couple of pictures, catching them in one with their legs slightly off to the right as though they were doing a synchronous pirouette.

They settled down until their ropes creaked as they gently swung back and forth while the faux applause continued. Bertrand snapped off a couple more photos. Then he quietly gathered up his things before pulling his pants back up.

For a moment he didn’t know what to do as he stood there looking up at them. He finally decided to leave them dangling for the morning crew to find. He even left the applause turned on so it would be playing in the background when their bodies were discovered. It would be a fitting tribute to three woman whose lives and careers had been crushed in the cruel place known as Hollywood.

2018 (written Nov 15 ’18 by riwa)

(Inspired by the picture manipulated by Quidam Martin.)

Posted in Asphyxia Stories | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Holly’s Playboy Shoot 4.4 (9)

Posted on March 12, 2019 by riwa

(A fanfiction of that famous photo shoot that took place many years ago.)

Bridget and Kendra were not happy despite the life they were living. Supposedly they had it all, living at the Playboy mansion as girlfriends of Hugh Hefner. But they had to share his time with Holly. And each one was developing an inner resentment.

Bridget was angry she was not getting any special photo shoots like Holly was. Even now a photographer was getting ready to take pictures of Holly down by the pool. It was a sore spot with her that was beginning to fester.

Kendra blamed Holly for not getting her a playmate of the month cover. It wasn’t Holly’s fault as she had no influence on who was chosen. But she seemed to be Hef’s favorite girlfriend, and rumors continued to swirl she’d been denied due to Holly’s influence.

Holly was indeed ambitious, playing a starring role in The Girl’s Next Door series. Bridget and Kendra both blamed her for taking more of the focus when the cameras were rolling. And it seemed she was working more and more behind the scenes for some of Hefner’s other projects, making herself indispensable.

Bridget was outside sunning herself in her skinny pink bikini, once more fuming Holly was getting all the attention. She didn’t want to be there watching the photo shoot taking place. It made her blood pressure rise to think Holly was getting yet another modeling gig.

It wasn’t long before Kendra came walking up in her light blue bikini. She too looked unhappy. “Did you know Holly is at the pool involved in another photo shoot?”

“I hadn’t noticed,” Bridget replied icily.

“That bitch always gets the good gigs, doesn’t she? You know Hef favors her more than us, right?”

“Don’t remind me.”

“Aren’t you the least bit curious?”

“Why should I be? The bitch would probably rub it in.”

“Want to go take a look?”

“Not really.”

—

Holly finished posing on a rock formation. She was naked of course, although she’d kept her crotch discreetly hidden. Then she saw the photographer’s assistant walk up and dump a load of chains onto the edge of the pool.

She dove into the water and swam over. Then she stood up next to the edge of the pool. “What are those for?” she asked curiously of the chains, feeling a twinge of discomfort.

“I was thinking about the idea of a shoot with you in chains underwater, that is, if you can hold your breath.”

“I learned to swim not long ago so I can hold my breath. What did you have in mind?”

“Here, let me show you,” he said as he patted the edge of the pool

The idea of being chained underwater intrigued her. But it sounded scary. The idea gave her a bit of an erotic thrill as she hadn’t heard of any other playmate filming underwater in chains. This might prove to be worth her while.

She sat on the edge of the pool as he explained what he was looking for. At first she was reluctant. So he suggested she try it with the chains dangling loosely around her body just to get a feel for things. That put Holly more at ease.

He draped them all over her until she was really weighed down. He wrapped several around her feet as well as around her wrists. Then he helped her off the side of the pool into the water.

“I was thinking of you lying on the bottom,” he suggested as she stood in water up to the bottom of her breasts. “We can call it ‘Hef’s Chained Love Slave’. What do you think of that?”

“I like it,” she admitted with a grin. “Let’s see how it works out.”

“Let’s try a few shots of you underwater holding your breath first. Then we’ll see how easily you can get back to your feet.”

“Got it.” Already she was finding this whole idea rather erotic.

—

“There she is,” Kendra pointed. From a distance they could see Holly standing naked in the water with chains wrapped around her. “I see the bitch is about to get more publicity.”

“I’d like to drown her ass in that pool,” Bridget grumped. “She gets all the attention while we get the leftovers.”

“Want to go over and watch the shoot?”

“I can see the bitch just fine from here.”

—

Holly dropped to her knees and posed while holding her breath. The photographer came underwater with his camera to take some stills. He was quite professional and was able to hold his breath longer than she could. It was a bit of an embarrassment, but at least it meant he would be able to stay down long enough to get the shots he wanted.

She came back up for a breath, finding it relatively easy to get back to her feet. It wasn’t nearly as scary as she thought it would be. In fact, it was proving to be rather enjoyable… and definitely erotic.

She went back down as he made her pose again. He snapped off a few more stills. Then they came back up.

“Let’s try one of you lying down on your side. Give me your best feature.” She smiled at him, knowing full well what he was referring to.

They went back down for another series of poses. She stretched out on her side, not at all concerned about having to hold her breath. For the moment she wasn’t staying down long enough for it to even be an issue.

She came back up to get her breath back. He used the LCD display to show her how the pictures were coming out. She liked what she saw and told him so.

“Let’s get another set,” he told her. “I’m thinking of you relaxing underwater with your arms over your head.” She nodded with understanding as she already had an idea of the pose he was looking. It was a standard Playboy posture whenever the ladies were being photographed.

She inhaled deeply and then stretched out on her side. The chains hung loosely; she wasn’t the least bit afraid. Then he came down and snapped several more of her as she posed.

When she came back up he showed her what he had taken. She really liked what she saw. She was already imagining what the pictures would look like out in the public arena. The other girls would be eating their hearts out.

“What next?” she asked.

When he motioned over at the side of the pool she gasped at the sight. There were several locks lying off by themselves. He smiled as he suggested, “Shall we see how it looks with the locks attached?”

She only had to think about it for a moment. “I love it!” she declared. This was turning out to be a daring photo shoot that would really show off her abilities.

He began attaching padlocks to her chains, including chaining her arms behind her back. Then he instructed her to go under again. Holly filled her lungs and then submerged.

She went into a couple of different poses as he snapped off several more stills. Then she came up and gasped for breath. He showed her how the new ones had turned out. She was pleased with the results.

About that time a familiar face came over to have a look as the photographer brushed the hair out of her face. “What’s with the chains?” Hef asked.

“I’m an escape artist,” Holly replied with a smile.

“Oh, you’re Houdini then,” he observed with a chuckle. “No, wait. I guess you’d be ‘Hoo-Holly’.” She laughed at his little joke.

He looked at the padlock hanging around her neck. Then he looked down on the ground. That’s when he bent down and began picking up the keys that were lying there.

“Hey! Don’t take those!”

“No problem. You can have them back once you come to the bedroom.” Then he smiled as he walked away with them, his libido having been influenced by her wet, chained nudity.

“But I need those back!” He just laughed over his shoulder.

—

They were out of sight when Hefner saw them and walked over to them. “You ladies spying on Holly?”

“What’s she doing?”

“She’s playing Houdini. The photographer’s got her all chained up in the pool.” Then he placed the keys in Kendra’s hand. “She might need these,” he chuckled before he headed on toward the mansion.

Bridget looked at the keys in Kendra’s hand. Then she looked at Kendra. Her companion just snorted, “So she wants to play ‘Escape Artist’, eh?”

—

The photographer patted her on the shoulder. “Why don’t we take a few more? He’s probably going to turn around and come right back.” She nodded as her pussy tingled at the predicament she found herself in. At least she was going to get a little sex out of this when it was all over.

She submerged for a few more pictures until he was finished. He showed her the latest stills. Again, she liked what she saw.

“I guess we’re done,” he said as he climbed out of the water.

“Hey; what about me?”

“Hef took your keys. I assume they’ll be making their way back to you at some point.”

“You’re just going to leave me like this?”

He was about to get back in the water to get her out when he saw a couple of girls walking up. The one in the light blue bikini held up something in her hand and called out, “Looking for these?”

“It looks like the keys have returned,” the photographer said with a smile. “It was a pleasure working with you, Holly. You make a great ‘Underwater Chained Love Slave’.”

“Thanks,” she said appreciatively as he gathered up his gear and left.

She watched as Bridget and Kendra came up to the edge of the pool. She saw what was in Kendra’s hands and asked, “How’d you get all those keys?”

“Hef left them with us,” Bridget explained. “He said you’re practicing to be an escape artist.”

“That old fart took them and left,” Holly replied indignantly. “Now get me out of here.”

“Get out of there yourself,” Kendra snorted as she tossed the keys into the water.”

“Hey!”

“You said you wanted to be an escape artist.”

“I was just joking!”

“What: you can’t reach them? Can’t you hold your breath long enough?”

“I can hold my breath!” she retorted indignantly. “Bitches!”

“Suit yourself,” Bridget replied with a dismissive wave. Then they turned and walked away.”

“Hey, come back here!”

“We gave you the keys, Holly,” Kendra called back over her shoulder. “What more do you want?”

“You bitches!” But they just kept walking away until they were gone.

“Damn!” she sputtered, looking all around. There was no one to help her. Was she going to have to do this herself??

The keys she needed were scattered all around the bottom of the pool. What a pain in the ass! The least that bitch could have done was toss them together instead of all over the damned place.

She filled her lungs and then submerged. It was not easy to see underwater, making the keys harder to locate once she was submerged. Besides, she could only pick them up with her hands which were chained and padlocked behind her back.

She went onto her side and tried reaching behind her for the nearest one. But she couldn’t get it into her hand. She bubbled in frustration as she finally gave up.

She stood back up, only to realize she was now in water up to her neck. Damn! Did the bitch really have to toss them into deeper water like that??

Holly looked down to see where three of them were lying somewhat close together. Maybe if she went after them she’d be able to snag one of them. Maybe one would unlock the padlock to her wrists.

She bent forward and dove downward for them, the chains taking her right to the bottom. She had to roll onto her side as she felt around behind her. Almost immediately she snagged one of them.

She bubbled as she worked to get it into the padlock attached to her wrists. But it was hard going. Being an escape artist was not nearly as easy as she thought it would be just to open a stupid padlock underwater with a key.

Well this was damned inconvenient! Afterwards she was going to give those two bitches a good chewing-out, leaving her alone like this. Maybe one of the other girls would come by and rescue her.

She bubbled as she strained to work the key into the padlock. But did she have the right one? Did all these padlocks require different keys? What a pain this was going to be getting herself all unchained!

Holly fought with the lock until her lungs began to burn. She finally gave up and tried to get to her feet. But when she stood upright she discovered her face was just below the surface. Somehow she’d gotten herself into deeper water.

She grunted and bubbled as she jumped upward, trying to get a breath. She couldn’t kick with her legs and she couldn’t pull with her arms. She barely got her mouth up to the surface with a jump before she slipped back under.

She jumped up again, fighting back panic. She gasped up at the surface before submerging. The chains were just too heavy.

She looked around in growing alarm, trying to spot another key. She dropped to her knees and then back onto her side as she fumbled around with her hands. She thought one was right there within easy reach.

She brushed it with her fingers as she tried to scoop it up. But it scooted just out of reach. Her lungs were already burning; she needed another breath.

She struggled to get to her feet again, only to discover she was in even deeper water. She tried to jump up to get a breath but she couldn’t get her mouth above the surface. Holly cried out a froth of bubbles as she twisted and struggled.

She had to get back into shallow water! What was she thinking, trying to go after the keys like that?? She should have waited for someone to come by. But who would be coming out here? The lawn company had already gone home for the day so as not to interfere with her pool shoot.

She tried to jump up for another breath. But she fell a couple inches short. Her lungs burned as her chest heaved ominously.

She tried jumping up again as panic swelled within her. It seized her as she swallowed a little water. Then she began twisting and thrashing about as she inhaled deeply.

Her throat suddenly closed off, making her want to breathe all the more. But she couldn’t get up to the surface. Her mouth opened and closed as she gulped water until her windpipe opened back up. Then she was inhaling huge lungfuls of water as she slowly sank to the bottom of the pool, her body hitching and convulsing.

Holly spasmed and shuddered as she coughed up a mixture of water and bubbles. She was dimly aware her body had reacted with a small orgasm. She ended up flat on her back, one of the keys underneath her as she stared upward, a small trail of tiny bubbles scurrying to the surface. That’s when her time as Hef’s girlfriend came to an undignified end.

As for Bridget and Kendra? They said they’d left the keys for Holly to unlock herself. Then they’d been called away. They had no idea their friend would try escaping from the locks in water too deep to stand up in.

2018 (written Nov 15 ’18 by riwa)

(Inspired by Holly’s real-life photo shoot. Pictures were found on the internet and are used for illustration purposes.)

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Sacrifice to Ereshkigal Parts 1 & 2 4.2 (5)

Posted on March 6, 2019 by riwa

PART 1

It literally took her breath away. It was so horrendous, so medieval in its construct and purpose, that she could no longer think straight. Two crackling pots of flames illuminated the torture device before her, giving it an even more foreboding atmosphere of agonizing death.

It was opened wide, both pieces hinged together in three places. It was in the shape of a human body, almost like that of a metallic mummy. The right side was empty save for three dangling chains that were obviously designed to strap the victim in place – at the knees, lower chest and neck. But it was the blood-stained spikes protruding from the interior of the other side that had her immediate attention.

Zilpha panted heavily, shamefully aware of how wet she was down below. Her nipples were hard; her breathing heavy and labored. But still she could not think rationally… almost could not think at all. She could only stare in horrified fascination.

She looked at the spikes again and trembled as she studied the protruding pieces of sharp metal. They were stained with blood, having obviously penetrated a human body not so very long ago. Crimson droplets hung from the spikes as the flickering flames illuminated bloody stains trickling downward upon the interior wall. It looked like it had been used recently, making her shudder all the more from a mixture of shock and an arousal too humiliating to acknowledge.

Her eyes followed the dripping blood patterns downward. She saw the sloping marble floor at the feet of the hideous device. It was slickened with crimson, blood that appeared to be trickling outward along a narrow channel from the feet of the terrible device.

It slowly flowed until it dribbled into a granite half-basin that was attached to the end of the stone platform the tall, metal medieval torture device stood upon. A circular opening was cut into the bottom, keeping the basin empty of blood save for some coagulating puddles and stains. Had it been used on someone recently… a woman perhaps?

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” the male voice murmured reverently into her ear. “You said you wanted to see it and experience it for yourself. What do you think?”

“Bloody hell!” the attractive Brit breathed in awe. She became wobbly from the image and she struggled not to lose her balance in the 6 inch fuck-me heels provided to her. “It looks like… like someone was…”

“Someone was what, my dear?”

“Someone was inside.”

“A masterful illusion which helps add to the experience. It adds a sense of realism, does it not?” Then he paused before seductively whispering into her ear, “Would you like to step inside? After all, you paid good money for the experience. That’s why I’ve gone to all this trouble to present you in such a manner.”

“Bloody hell!” she breathed again.

She’d gotten here ahead of her sister Dorothy and had been told her relative would join her as soon as she arrived. Her excitement at seeing an Iron Maiden had overridden her thoughts about waiting for her sister. Now she wished Dorothy was here to see her reaction. The bitch would probably have a good laugh.

She got the shakes so bad that he had to grab onto her and hold her upright. It was already hard to breathe with the tight, black corset around her midsection. And her arms were tied behind her back at the wrists and elbows for dramatic effect.

She almost stumbled as he led her forward by grasping onto an elbow. She certainly needed some assistance just to step around the basin and then up onto the granite platform. Was it really necessary for her to be wearing these bloody heels??

He escorted her right up to the medieval torture device where he paused again, allowing her to soak it all in. She moaned softly, on the verge of a humiliating orgasm. Seeing such a device up close and personal was more arousing than she could possibly have imagined. Those blood stains looked so fresh!

He never said a word as he allowed her to quietly study the blood-stained spikes in greater detail. She saw they were arranged in horrifying perfection, designed to literally penetrate the legs all the way up. There were 3 spikes that crossed the torso dangerously close to the genitals… another three a few inches up… yet three more that would pierce her lower chest were she to be trapped inside.

The chest area was recessed but it would certainly not save her ample breasts. Three more blood-stained spikes waited patiently for their next set of mammary glands with three more installed for the upper chest. A woman’s most attractive assets would surely not be so attractive after five minutes inside the bloody thing.

Even the head area was not immune from the torturous spikes. Two were positioned in such a way that she suspected the poor victim would be pierced and blinded, left to die screaming sightless while trapped inside. It didn’t matter the metal device contained no openings of any kind to allow illumination from the flickering flames of the two pots.

“Are you ready, my dear?” her escort breathed softly into her neck, interrupting her observations. “Would you like to stand inside? You said you wanted the full experience.”

“Yes,” she whimpered in a quivering voice. “Bloody hell; yes.” She wanted to stand inside for a moment, just to fully experience what it must have felt like for a victim about to meet her doom from the many piercings.

He took her by the elbow and carefully turned her around until her back was to the interior of the empty side of the cruel device. Then he slowly pushed her backward inside the metal contraption. The instant she felt her flesh come in contact with cool metal behind her she climaxed powerfully, wincing with embarrassment as her body shuddered.

“Don’t worry, my dear,” he breathed softly as he smiled at her. “You’re not the first to orgasm like that. Several guests here have endured a similar experience.” She was glad Dorothy had not been here to witness it or she would not have heard the end of it.

Where the hell was her sister anyway?

“Now to chain you inside for the fully experience,” he told her with a smile.

He knelt and grabbed the lower chain, bringing it across her knees to attach it to the clip on the other side. She moaned weakly as the chain came in contact with her flesh. Then he reached out and took the second chain, wrapping it across her lower waist before fastening it as well. She writhed and squirmed, her breathing becoming heavy and labored. Her arousal was evidenced by her nipples which were painfully erect as she shivered like crazy.

He grabbed the upper chain and slowly brought it across her neck, carefully securing it. She let out a little cry as she really started to tremble. “Don’t worry, my dear,” he reassured her with a gentle pat on her shoulder. “Not much chance of you losing your balance now.”

He stepped back to admire her as she panted heavily for breath; her long, slender legs and full, heaving mounds. She was absolutely perfect. Ereshkigal, the supreme goddess of death and ruler of the Mesopotamian Underworld would no doubt be pleased at this new sacrifice he was bringing to her so soon after the last one.

“Are you ready, my dear?” he asked reverently. She was trembling like a leaf as she nodded. Then she blurted out, “Wait! My sister. I think… she would like to see me in here.”

“”I’m sure she’ll show up any second now,” he said reassuringly. Then he grabbed the door and started to swing it closed.

Zilpha began to hyperventilate, her eyes getting bigger as she tried to catch her breath. Experiencing this moment was beyond her wildest dreams. She’d never imagined one day she might get to stand topless inside an Iron Maiden like this. And with him almost closing the door on her she could just imagine how some poor female must have felt, trapped and ready to be pierced to death.

He slowly swung the door around until the spikes were almost touching the right side of her body. He stooped it before she was pierced. That’s when she went off again, screaming in orgasm as her pussy gushed from her release.

She winced, shuddering like crazy for several seconds before it finally passed. It left her dazed and breathless. He just at her as she panted weakly for breath.

Bloody hell! That had felt incredible! It had literally been the best orgasm of her life. Paying just to stand inside the Iron Maiden had been well worth it.

He peeked around the door and smiled at her. “Was it that good?” he asked innocently.

“It was unbelievable!” she panted. “Thank you ever so much. What an experience to tell my friends. I just wish my sister could have been here to see it. I’m ready to get out now!”

Strangely he didn’t open the door back up. Zilpha thought she saw something sinister in his eyes from the flickering flames of the two torches. Why the hell was he looking at her like that?

“I see I have chosen wisely,” he told her with a sense of pride. “Ereshkigal, the supreme goddess of death, appreciates your orgasm. Now you are ready to give her your very life.”

“My life??” Zilpha gasped in alarm. “What the bloody hell is this??”

She felt her stomach drop with a sickening lurch once he went back to pushing the door closed on her. A moment later she felt the spikes start to press up into the right side of her body. “Wait; what are you doing??”

“I’m giving you the full experience. The goddess will appreciate another sacrifice so soon after the last one.”

“Last one?? NO – IIEEEEEEE!”

Zilpha began to scream as he continued pushing on the door. This wasn’t what she’d paid for! She was only supposed to stand in here just to see what it felt like! She’d paid good money to see the Iron Maiden for herself, paying handsomely to stand within its deadly embrace. But she sure as hell didn’t want to serve as some sacrifice for…

Another scream was torn from her lips as numerous spikes punctured the right side of her body, drawing blood. As he put his weight into it, continuing to close it on her, she felt the spikes on the left side begin their deadly assault as well. Her breasts were pierced as her nerve endings recorded dozens of painful penetrations.

There were more punctures leading to more rivulets of blood. And still he pushed on the door. Dozens of spikes impaled her soft flesh as Zilpha shrieked for her sister to come to her aid.

Spikes penetrated her torso as well as her upper and lower chest. But there was no time to take stock of how many places it hurt. Now she saw the two ominous spikes coming right for her eyes.

She desperately tried to slam her head back as far as it would go, instinctively closing her eyes. But the spikes kept going. She prayed the bloody bastard would stop before…

Her screams intensified as both eyes were pierced, instantly exploding into soft mush to service her no more. Her breasts were on fire, her flesh penetrated in so many locations. She couldn’t believe how much it hurt.

As she shrieked in pain she climaxed once again, a painful climax that flushed hotly through her body. With her eyes destroyed she was instantly plunged into the horror of utter darkness. Her sense of vision was gone, increasing the other senses tenfold as blinding, searing pain became her intimate lover.

She screamed and screamed she felt his body lean against the door, driving the spikes ever deeper into her soft flesh. Cries of agony were ripped out of her lungs to echo all around inside her chamber of death. Instinctively her body writhed in pain and anguish in a futile attempt to escape more than 2 dozen separate penetrations.

She sensed rather than saw the door continuing to close as her ongoing screams reverberated in her ears. She felt the pain of dozens of punctures, felt the agony of her gorgeous mounds being pierced clear through. It was the worst thing she’d ever experienced.

She heard his voice one final time outside the chamber before the door fully closed. “Ereshkigal gratefully receives your sacrifice, my dear.” Then she felt him lean hard against the door until she heard the sound of it sealing shut, the spikes penetrating ever deeper into her flesh.

Blackness… agony… searing pain. There was nothing to comfort her suffering. The sound of her terrified shrieks were all that kept her company as she stood blinded and alone inside the Iron Maiden.

Her screams became more intense as her body registered each and every penetration. She tried to back up but she was already flat up against the back of the interior. What’s more, her bound arms actually worked against her, pushing her body forward into the many protruding spikes. She writhed and squirmed in vain, her breasts fully pierced as her punctured eyes drove her into madness.

She tried to thrash about, tried to discover some method of relief or escape as her blood began to pool at the bottom of the Iron Maiden. Soon it began streaming out along the narrow channel into the granite basin that awaited. Her heels shuffled around, causing her to slip a little. But she accomplished nothing. That’s when she began violently climaxing over and over again as she screamed and shrieked in agonizing darkness.

Blood flowed down her quivering body from multiple wounds, gathering upon the sloping floor to flow out through the narrow channel. In her agony she was certain her womanhood had been pierced, adding to her suffering. Her screams echoed even louder all around her as she wriggled about, multiplying her many pierced agonies exponentially.

Eventually she became aware of a great fatigue settling into her body. She was screaming herself hoarse. Her agonizing cries lessened as a result of blood loss.

She finally stopped struggling altogether, whimpering quietly. That’s when she noticed two distinct sounds: the sound of blood quietly dripping onto the floor from her puncture wounds and the sound of her dying heart thumping loudly in her chest, slowing down as it echoed all around her.

All of the sudden a bright, blinding light penetrated her enclosure. Was she hallucinating? Could she actually see again?? What was this??

To her utter amazement she saw a beautiful, naked woman slowly walk up to her. “Dorothy?” she gasped, her vision not fully registering. Then she saw it wasn’t her sister.

“Who are you?” she asked, the words echoing in her mind.

Amazingly the woman seemed to have heard her. “I am Ereshkigal.” It was a response that echoed back in her head.

“I am Ereshkigal. And I accept your sacrifice.”

To her utter shock the woman reached toward her, reaching for her until her hand appeared to disappear right into her chest. A moment later the hand withdrew. In its grasp was what appeared to be a beating heart.

Ereshkigal dramatically lifted the still beating organ up in her hand as though offering it back to her sacrificial lamb. Zilpha stared at it in complete and utter horror, shaking her head as she watched in wide-eyed terror. Her heart thumped slower and slower until it finally… stopped…… altogether…….

The last thing she heard in her mind were her ungawdly screams of pure terror…

2012; 2018 (written for Zilpha Jul 31 ’12; ed. Nov 24 ‘18 by riwa)

(Inspired by a poser render found at PerilousThoughts.com. The render is included for illustration purposes only.)

PART 2

Dorothy waited quietly in the dimly lit chamber. One flaming pot provided all the illumination she was permitted. The place gave her the creeps.

She couldn’t believe her sister had really wanted to come here. But she’d heard they had an operating Iron Maiden and wanted to see it for herself. Zilpha wanted her to come with her but she’d been running late. Apparently her overly-excited sister hadn’t been able to wait.

She stood uncomfortably upon her fuck-me heels. The tight black corset around her waist did nothing to hide her ample breasts. She didn’t know why she had to dress like this. But she’d been told it was necessary… whatever the hell that meant.

Zilpha was already off to see the device. She didn’t know why she wasn’t taken right away to see her. Something about this whole thing made her feel more than a little uneasy.

A sudden shriek knifed through the silence from somewhere not too far away, a scream that sounded vaguely familiar. It was an agonized cry, indicating a great deal of pain was involved. Dorothy started panting heavily for breath, trembling like crazy.

Those screams weren’t coming from Zilpha, were they? What was being done to her?? Coming to this place suddenly seemed like a very bad idea indeed.

The screams began to fade until they were gone. It left her standing there in an eerie silence. Dorothy nervously shuffled around on her heels, trying to be careful not to lose her balance.

Their so-called tour guide returned, a satisfied smile on his face. Zilpha was not with him. “Where’s my sister?” Dorothy asked nervously. “And what were those screams?”

“Screams? What screams?”

“Surely you must have heard them!”

“I heard nothing. But your sister is in good hands. She wanted to meet Ereshkigal.”

“Ereshkigal? Who the hell is Ereshkigal??”

“Would you like to meet her?” he asked with great interest as he gently took her elbow.

“Just take me to my sister, ok? Isn’t that why you had me dress down like this? Something about the rules of being down here. You did say my sister had to dress the very same way, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did,” he replied, the hint of a smile in his expression. “You’ll be reunited with your sister very soon. Come with me please.” Then he began to escort her down one of the passageways.

Dorothy wobbled on her footwear as they clattered on the stone floor. She grimaced a she blurted out, “Do I have to continue wearing these bloody heels, love? I can barely keep my balance in them as it is. And does this corset have to be so bloody tight?”

“All part of the experience, love,” he responded patiently. “It will make your participation with your sister fit within the rules of our establishment.”

“My participation?” she responded in confusion. “Participation in what?”

“Your participation in meeting Ereshkigal, of course. Your sister was introduced to her just a few minutes ago.”

“So when I meet this Ereshkigal person I’ll see Zilpha again?”

“I’m sure you two will soon be reunited.” But Dorothy’s suspicions were being further aroused. Now she wasn’t so sure she trusted this man.

He led her into an underground room lit with two of those familiar flaming pots standing on pedestals on opposite walls. What disturbed her was the iron cage that stood directly in the center of the room. It was a metal cage rounded in the shape of a human being with a chain going up into the ceiling. Behind the cage stood some sort of mechanism with numerous gears, a mechanism with some sort of clock face and a large pendulum.

“What’s all this?” Dorothy wanted to know, feeling even more uneasy.

“This is in preparation for meeting Ereshkigal,” he explained simply as he opened the cage. “…and your sister of course. They are engaged in a special ceremony.”

He grabbed her by the elbow and forced her toward the cage. It had a solid metal plate for her heels to stand upon. But she had no idea why the hell he wanted her inside.

“Hey; don’t put me in here!”

“But it’s necessary,” he told her patiently. “You must be purified before you meet Ereshkigal.”

“Purified? In here?? Bloody hell, love! How does one get ‘purified’ in this bloody contraption??”

“You will find out shortly,” he told her, closing the metal cage door and securing her inside. Dorothy barely had enough room to wriggle her arms in such a way so as to grab the cage with her hands.

She stood there perplexed as he walked over to the clock mechanism where he set the pendulum in motion. Then he turned and smiled at her. “It is begun,” he announced. “You will be purified. Then you will meet Ereshkigal.”

“But where’s my sister?” Dorothy blurted out in alarm. He just smiled at her as he walked out of the chamber. A moment later there was a loud rumble as a large granite slab slid across the doorway, sealing her inside.

“HEY!!”

Dorothy started hyperventilating as she looked all around. Then she became aware the cage was being elevated by the chain coming down from the ceiling. A moment later Dorothy was gently swinging back and forth. Somehow the mechanical clock was attached to the chain above her cage, lifting her up into the air.

“Hey!” she called out again, suddenly feeling alone and vulnerable. “Come back here! Is this it?? You can’t just leave me like this! Where’s my sister? Where’s Zilpha?” Her words echoed all around her inside the chamber.

She looked at the clock face, studying how it functioned. There only seemed to be a second hand and minute hand. The second hand went around and around while the minute hand slowly headed for the peak of the clock face where a 12 should have been.

What the hell??

She watched in growing alarm until the clock registered with both hands at the 12 position. There was a loud gong that reverberated all around her. A moment later she heard the sound of a granite slab opening.

For a moment she thought the door was opening back up. To her shock it was the floor sliding open beneath her. Instantly she was hit with a blast of heat.

“BLOODY HELL!” she gasped in horror as she looked down. Below her beyond the floor leaped the searing flames of an inferno, flames that tried to leap up at her. At the same time she noticed the chain wasn’t lifting her cage anymore. Now it was lowering her down into the flames.

“COME BACK” Dorothy screamed in the direction of the door. “GET ME OUT OF HERE! OHMYGAWD; YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME! I DON’T WANT TO BURN!”

In a panic she began screaming for her sister to appear out of nowhere to come rescue her. Her shrieks merely bounced off the solid walls back at her. She began hyperventilating as her surroundings became exceedingly warm.

The cage continued to drop until she saw she was descending past the floor of the chamber. She was being lowered into the fiery pit. She wriggled around inside the cage like crazy, setting it to swaying as she screamed in growing terror.

In a flash it occurred to her what the bloody wanker must have meant when he talked about her being ‘purified’ before meeting Ereshkigal. The whole chamber seemed designed to handle the great heat of the fiery inferno below. Was she going to be burned alive??

Her screams intensified as her cage continued to descend. There were flames all around her now, flames that licked at the bars to her cage… flames that began lapping at her soft flesh. She looked upward and cried out, writhing and squirming within the intense heat.

The flames increased all around her as she was lowered ever deeper into what felt like the very pit of hell. If this was her fate then surely her sister was dead too. Now she was about to join her. Did that mean this Ereshkigal bitch was some sort of underworld princess or something??

Her skin began to blister from the intolerable flames. Then she heard the mechanical clock gong deeply once more from somewhere above her. That’s when she saw the floor of the chamber start to close above her head, closing to seal her in with the flames. The little notch she saw cut into the floor indicated the only thing that would protrude out of her hell was the chain that now lowered her cage to the flames below.

Dorothy found enough voice to scream in agony, shrieking as the flames began hungrily licking at her flesh. Then she heard a loud thump of some sort as the ceiling closed above her. She was now entombed within the incinerator. That’s when her hair caught fire, lighting her up like a candle as flames leaped up from her head.

Her agonizing screams were drowned out by the sizzle of the pouring blood and liquid of her dying body. Her corset began to burn until it ultimately popped free, releasing her from its uncomfortable confines. But she was not comforted at all, not with flames all around her.

She inhaled fire, searing her vocal chords and silencing her forever. She writhed and wriggled, lasting a couple more minutes until she finally expired from third degree burns and blood loss. The cage continued to lower until her entire body was completely engulfed in flames, incinerating her heels.

Her flesh was burned away until her bones finally crumpled onto the floor of the cage. These continued to burn until they were reduced to nothing more than a pile of ashes. Only then did the cage start to rise upward as the floor to the chamber above reopened to the sound of that familiar gong.

In her last dying moments she saw a regal, naked lady approach from out of the flames. She smiled as she told her, “Now you are purified. I accept your gift.” Then consciousness mercifully faded away. What little was left of her body was returned to the surface world…

2012; 2018 (written for Dorothy Aug 3 ’12; ed. Nov 25 ‘18 by riwa)

Posted in Dorothy and her friends | Leave a comment

Water-Babies Part I 3.8 (4)

Posted on March 1, 2019 by riwa

Water-Babies Part I

Nora: We drive in silence as James takes us out into the Nevada desert. The place is thirty minutes away and has a great view of the city. I’m really looking forward to coming out here again.

We’re civil to each other, but James has always been good at that. I must admit: it’s one of his better qualities. I suppose if I was forced to sit down and think about it, I would be able to identify more of his good traits. But I don’t want to.

I would have come out here alone. But Wilma put her foot down and said no way. She told me I got away with it last time, but that it can’t happen again. This time I had to come out with my husband.

Wilma is my best friend. Her husband Ford is a damn sexy man. And yeah, I’ve fucked him before.

I really need this trip we’re taking out to see the Rileys. They are wealthy and have this great place outside the city. I’m drawn to it because they are water-babies and have several pools and hot tubs on the grounds. I’m looking forward to getting fucked underwater by one of their swinger friends.

James: My desire to come out here is not as strong as it was when we first discussed it. I suppose that’s only natural when you’re in the middle of a big ol’ fight with your spouse. This one has been going on for quite a while.

 We haven’t had sex in four months. But I get the distinct impression Nora has gotten some on the side. I’m almost to the point where I don’t care anymore. Much of this has been all about her anyway. Sometimes it’s hard just being in her presence.

 From the few pictures I’ve seen, this place we’re going to is supposed to be incredible. I’m intimidated as hell knowing we’re driving into wealth. I’m not sure how we’re going to fit in.

 Supposedly there are going to be swingers present, as well as a lot of pools to do it in. Does this mean I might have a crack at getting fucked in the water? I don’t know for sure. But I figure I’ve gone without sex long enough that it’s a chance worth taking.

 I’m not as outgoing as Nora. But I’m still coming out here with her. She told me if I play my cards right I could get lucky.

 I’ll admit to being attracted to her best friend Wilma. I have been for as long as I’ve known her. And since Nora told me Wilma will be there with her husband Ford, I have hopes of spending some underwater time with her… if only she’ll have me.

 I do have my reservations about the whole thing. What if the people don’t like us? What if I don’t feel a connection with anyone? It’s pretty hard to fuck unless you like the person you’re with and can feel something of a spark.

 Nora set this up a while ago. When we had our fight, I half expected her to shut it down. But I think she wants to get fucked just as much as I do. And since we’re not getting it from each other, I’ll see if I can find someone here who wants to get it on with me underwater.

We pull up and James parks the car. Then we head for the main door. I feel an erotic jolt remembering my last visit here.

It was without James because of our long-running feud. Of course I had a ball without him. So I’m nervous they’re going to expect him and I to be together in the same pool. I sure as hell hope not.

The front door opens and out comes the Rileys. Gene is muscular and attractive. I got to fuck him in the water the last time I was here.

His wife Donna has got a body that makes me jealous of those C tits and that nice ass of hers. James might get lucky with her if he plays his cards right. I plan on getting lucky with her husband again later on in one of their pools.

They come right up to us and welcome us with open arms. They tell us Wilma and Ford have already arrived. I’m looking forward to being in the water with them.

I was tempted to ride over with them just to make James drive out here alone. But I’m afraid he might have turned around and gone right back home. If that would have happened I’m not sure Wilma would have let me stay since they want us out here this time as a couple. I got away with being single last time I was out here, but apparently not anymore.

I’m here for one thing and one thing only: cock and lots of it. Pussy does nothing for me. I mean the girls were all attractive the last time I was out here. But all I want are cocks to play with.

Last time I let a couple of ladies kiss my body and rub me all over, which was kind of fun. They even played with my tits a little. I’ll admit it gave me a bit of a thrill. But I’m not into pussy licking or kissing females.

We go inside and are taken right in to a “meet and greet” room. There are five other couples waiting for us. My best friend is standing there with her husband. So I walk up and give them both a big hug as I eye Ford suggestively.

The Rileys are warm and welcoming. Donna has a great smile and a sexy body with brunette hair down to her shoulders. I find myself sizing her up as we go inside.

 Will there be a chance to hook up with her later? How good is she in the water? I’m looking forward to the opportunity of getting into a pool with a sexy woman for some erotic fun.

 We’re led into a big room with more couples. They all smile and wave as they come over to greet us. Nora goes right over to her best friend as I get a drink in my hand and warm hugs all around.

 We start talking about the hot Nevada desert we just drove through and how they have such a nice place. I tell them a pool party sounds great as it’s been a really hot summer. Sandra Levinson tells us it’s why they’ve all gravitated to the Riley’s since they have this great place with plenty of water to go around.

 When I ask how much water is on the property, Donna Riley offers to show me around. I go off with her, her husband Gene, and two other couples. I leave Nora behind to fend for herself.

 Apparently she wants to hang around with Ford and Wilma anyway. I don’t care in the least, so long as we’re separated. I feel much better once I’m away from her.

 There’s a distinct tension in the air when we’re together. It makes me wonder if the other couples can feel it. Nora’s best friend Wilma knows all about our current situation. So maybe she’s warned everybody ahead of time about us.

 I’m a little concerned the way Nora and I are not going to be together as a couple. I don’t know how it’s going to affect our visit or if it will make the others uncomfortable. So far everyone’s acting like it’s no big deal.

I’m relieved when the Rileys take my husband away along with two other couples. As far as I’m concerned, the less I see of him in the next several hours the better. All I want to do is play with these guys. And it’s ok if the girls and I swim around naked in the water since it will probably get the guys all worked up and ready to fuck.

We go to a private room where we sit and talk. I join Wilma and Ford on the couch as we discuss the weather and my last visit. Then Joyce Burrows brings up what must be on everyone’s mind when she asks if James is going to enjoy himself.

I give her a shrug, not wanting her to worry as I tell her, “He swims at the Y during lunch, Joyce. And sometimes he swims after work. I think he’s looking forward to fucking in the water every bit as much as I am.”

“Sandra tells me she’s seen him there a time or two and has said hi.”

“Oh really? I didn’t know Sandra had seen him there at the Y. He’s probably going to like her, knowing how much she loves doing it in the water.”

I didn’t know about Sandra seeing James at the Y. Maybe that’s another reason why Wanda invited me to come for a return visit to a swinger’s party. I suppose she had to insist I bring James along this time.

I hungrily lick my lips as I eye Joyce’s husband Tom. I remember the last time we fucked in that deep pool. The orgasm I had was intense, and I’m looking forward to another one. It’s been a while.

“I’ve got a fun little game for the deep pool I think you’ll enjoy, Nora.”

“I’m ready, Joyce,” I tell her with a smile as I lift my glass in a toast. “Lead the way” and once more I look longingly at Tom. That’s when we all stand up and head out.

I get Wilma alone and quietly whisper, “We’re not going to run into James, are we?”

“No, he’s with the others on the other side of the house.” Then she sighs as she gives me a disgusted look.

“Nora, why don’t you two patch things up already? You guys are great together! Why do you think I mentioned this place to you six months ago? They probably should have banned you both from coming! Hell, you can almost cut the tension in here with a butter knife!”

“Just get me some cock, Wilma; ok? After we’ve both fucked our brains out I’m sure we’ll mellow right out; don’t you think?”

“I sure hope so, Nora.” But she acts like she isn’t so sure, judging by our continuing issues.

We head outside to a nice pool with clear water that bottoms out at about five feet. But I thought I got a glimpse of a deeper one on the other side of the building. Do they have more than one pool out here??

 I wore a set of Speedos under my clothes that run part way down my upper legs. Nora told me there would be water and swimming and fucking, and to come prepared before we went home for the evening. She told me she was wearing a bikini under her clothes before we left. So I did the same with my Speedos.

 The ladies strip out of their clothes into extremely sexy bikinis. Donna Riley has a skimpy black number that shows a ton of cleavage. Sandra Levinson strips down to something hot and pink. Laura Williams is the shortest of the three with a set of B cups similar to the size of my wife’s. Her breasts are perfect handfuls contained in a lime green bikini.

 There’s a little hoop with a net I see floating in the middle of the pool with a ball drifting nearby. “I thought we would play a game of hoops,” Gene Riley explains. “First team to five gets to make out with the losers.”

 I’m paired with Donna Riley and Bart Williams. Bart’s wife Laura is with Sandra Levinson and her husband Melvin.  Win or lose, I’m looking forward to making out with either Laura or Sandra.

 The game is informal as we toss the ball around while trying to hit the basket. When I get the ball, Laura and Sandra jump all over me. It’s sexy as hell so I deliberately hold onto it a few seconds longer, enjoying their warm bodies against mine before passing it off.

 There is lots of laughter before Laura finally hits the winning shot of our first game. Gene sits back and watches as his wife Donna makes out with Bart Williams. Bart’s wife Laura starts kissing Sandra Levinson’s husband Melvin. I get to lock lips with Sandra.

 All the making out around me is arousing. No one is kissing their spouse. I get the impression I might have more fun here that I had previously anticipated.

We reach the deep pool with the observation window down below. I’ve discovered it’s an incredible feeling being watched as I swim naked. It’s even more incredible if I’m being watched while I’m fucking underwater. I don’t know whose idea it was to put in a window at the bottom of the pool. But I love it.

When we get there I see Art Giddings bring over a box of goodies. In it are these phallus looking objects with what looks like a set of balls for weight. I also see these breast shaped objects with some rather lengthy nipples sticking out.

“Here’s how the game will be played,” he tells us. “I’m going to toss all these objects into the water. They’re weighted, so they’re going to sink right to the bottom. On go, each one of you will have to dive down and pick one up using only your mouth. You’ll have to bring it back to the surface and then go back down to get another one. Of course the guys will be bringing up boobs while the girls will be bringing up cocks.”

His wife Irene smiles as she looks at the contents in the box. “I always like something shaped like that in my mouth,” she muses, experimentally putting a phallus between her lips.” I remember her from my last visit as being rather slutty, with that short blonde hair and those boobs of hers which must be sized D at least. Then again, most of the ladies acted slutty after inhibitions were lowered.

I know you do,” her husband jokes knowingly as we all laugh. I’m so horny I’m tempted to dispense with the ice-breaker and get right to the fucking.

“Shall we go topless?” my best friend Wilma suggests. Her attitude makes me think she’s interested in fucking as well.

Ford smiles as he gives us an even better offer. “How about if we all dispense with the suits and go nude? We all know each other here. I suspect it won’t be long before things start heating up anyway; am I right?”

“I can live with that,” I declare as I quickly shed my clothes. My yellow bikini brazenly comes right off. I end up naked and horny as can be.

“Men versus women,” Art tells us as he dumps the boobs in one area and the phalluses in another. “Whichever team brings up all the objects first gets to make out with the loser of his or her choice.”

“I’m all for that!” I laugh as I give Ford my most “come-hither” smile.

“I’d better join you,” Art observes as he strips out of his clothes. “To make it fair, one of you ladies needs to sit out to make it a three-on-three.”

“I will,” his wife Irene offers with a raised hand.

Chuck and Joyce Goodwin kiss each other before separating. I wouldn’t mind a little of Chuck’s cock myself, now that I notice it’s starting to harden a little. Gawd, I’ve missed these people and the last time I was here!

“Ready?” Irene declares. Joyce dives right in head first without even waiting. “I guess that’s a go,” Wilma laughs good-naturedly as we all dive in head first after her.

I swim right down and zero in on the nearest phallus, pulling hard with my arms while kicking with my legs. I see the way they are weighted at the balls as they point upward. I lose a burst of air as I open my mouth. I clamp down on one with my teeth and lips before hauling ass back to the surface.

It’s a sexy contest, especially when we start having things in our mouths. The guys finish first, probably because they are less buoyant than we are and it’s easier for them to swim down. Art comes over to make out with me and claim his winnings.

“Maybe we’d better split this up,” Irene laughs. She swaps Chuck with Wilma so we all have at least one guy and one girl on each team. Once she hollers “Go!” we all jackknife downward.

All those naked bodies going down with bubbles coming out of their mouths and noses is a sexy sight. I’m almost tempted to take Chuck’s dangling cock into my mouth and take him back up as my prize. But I settle on the nearest phallus, grabbing it between my lips and then hauling it back up.

We lose again, perhaps because there are two girls on my team. This time I get to make out with Wilma’s husband Ford. I’m so turned on kissing him in the water that I hump his hardening cock with my crotch.

 The next round Gene suggests the women take their tops off. I like the idea and the ladies all agree. Bouncing boobs are a great distraction.

 The game gets a little out of control as we start grabbing each other while the ball is still in play. I try to act like I’m involved in the game. But getting a handful of sexy body or a brief grab of tits or ass is really erotic.

 Each time another game ends, there is more making out. And each time it looks like people are starting to get carried away. My cock is hard, but I’m not the only one. No one seems to care, especially since there is so much grabbing and tugging of penises by the wives.

 Melvin’s team wins what turns out to be the last game. “A treat for the winners!” Donna declares. Then she takes a breath before immediately submerging to suck his cock. Sexy bubbles come up as he smiles appreciatively.

 I smile at Sandra as I tell her, “As the gracious loser, what can I do for you?”

 She smiles and then suggests “How about a little licky-licky?” as she spreads her pussy lips with her fingers. In response I take a deep breath and submerge to slip between her legs.

 She squats on my face as my tongue probes her sweet treasure. Her head slips beneath the surface. Then I hear her moan sexy bubbles as she adjusts her position on my face. Nearby I hear Donna grunting up bubbles with a mouthful of Bart’s cock as she sucks hungrily.

 I’m astonished the way everyone is so free with each other. I’m also turned on beyond belief. I give Sandra my best effort as I rub her ass. I’m rewarded with sexy moans and bubbly cries.

 I stay down for a couple of minutes, noticing Donna has been down with Melvin for a similar length of time. I conclude that all these folks are definitely water-babies. This could turn out to be one hell of an outing. Grudgingly I have Nora to thank for insisting I come out here with her.

It isn’t long before our game sort of falls apart. But no one seems to care. Ford eats me out underwater while Irene comes down to suck on his cock. We make for a hot little threesome.

Nearby I see the others have paired off. Wilma sucks Chuck Goodwin’s cock as Art licks out Chuck’s wife Joyce. We all moan and bubble underwater, and it really turns me on.

My thoughts turn toward James, and I wonder what he’s doing. I assume he’s in the other outdoor pool, but it really doesn’t matter. As long as he’s having fun I don’t have to think about him. Being in this pool away from him allows me to have some undistracted fun of my own.

We all finally surface and get out of the pool. I was this close to cumming from Ford’s tongue. But I got to watch Wilma get a mouthful of cum underwater, which was really hot to see.

We rest up and talk for a few minutes. Then Wilma stands up and smiles. “We have another game to play,” she says, giving Art a knowing look.

I watch curiously as he goes into the building, only to return with another box of goodies. Then Wilma smiles at us as she asks, “All right. Who wants to volunteer?”

“Me,” I declare with a smile as I lift my arm. “If it involves orgasms, I’m in all the way.”

“That’s Nora for you,” Irene observes with a chuckle. She must be remembering my last visit.

Wilma pulls out a couple of ankle weights and proceeds to put them on me. I feel an erotic jolt when Art goes to the pool shed and returns with hoses and a compressor. It looks like it’s snuba time.

“Here,” Wilma tells me as she hands me a dive mask. “Put this on, Nora.”

I start to put it on, only to stop and stare incredulously. The damned thing has been blackened and is absolutely useless. If I put it on I won’t be able to see a damned thing.

“What the hell is this??” I gasp.

“You’ll find out.” It’s Wilma’s voice in my ear, seductive yet sinister. “Better put it on before it’s too late.”

I get it over my face just in time. Then I get a push in my back from behind. That’s when I go tumbling head first into the water with a splash.

I can’t see a thing. The other splashes I hear indicate I’m not alone in the water. But that’s not what’s bothering me. It’s the ankle weights dragging me downward as I claw in vain for the surface, bubbles spewing out of my mouth.

We all sit around the pool taking a break from our playtime. “That was fun,” Donna declares.

 “It sure was,” Sandra agrees.”

 Laura asks, “So tell us, James. What fantasies would you like to see acted out while you’re here with us today?”

 “Well, I love to make women cum underwater,” I reply with a smile.

 “You can scratch that one off then,” Sandra gasps appreciatively. “No wait; I’ll help you do that one again if you don’t mind. Gawd; your tongue is so hot!”

 Everyone laughs as I blush a little. But I find myself relaxing more and more with these folks. This is going to be a fun afternoon.

 At that moment I find myself thinking about Nora. My face clouds as I remember our ongoing feud. I can’t even remember what started the whole damned thing to begin with.

 Melvin notices my annoyance and asks, “What are you thinking, James?”

 “You all have been great so far. I don’t want to spoil anything during our visit. But my wife and I are, uh…”

 “Yeah, we kinda noticed,” Gene responds. “We were hoping all this sexy fun we’re going to have might help matters.”

 “Maybe I shouldn’t say this,” I reply conspiratorially. “But now that you mention it… I was kind of thinking about having a little sexy revenge on Nora.”

 The guys perk up as the girls go “Ohhhh!” Sandra smiles playfully as she asks, “What did you have in mind, James?”

 “Well, Nora doesn’t have any lesbian tendencies. I was just thinking it would serve her right. Maybe it would melt her a little if some of you ladies were to fuck her and make her cum. I think that would be hot.”

 There are more “Ooohhhh’s” and a few knowing chuckles. Everybody starts looking at everybody else. There are looks on their faces indicating they all know something while I’m the odd man out.

 Gene looks at me and smiles. “James? Maybe we can help you out there. Wilma let us in on some of the stuff going on between you two. So we kind of prepared a little surprise during your visit. I think they might be getting it ready for us right now over in the deep pool. Would you like to see it?”

 “Damn, Gene. Now you’ve got me curious.” There are more chuckles.

 “Let’s go show him, Gene,” Sandra says as she grabs my arm.

 The girls start to giggle as the group leads me back into the building. All of us are still buck naked. But that doesn’t bother me so much. Instead I find myself wondering what the hell they’ve got planned.

© 2017 (written Sep 16 ’17 by riwa)

[Quick note: surgery went well and the doctor says they found no cancer. Thank you so much for your thoughts and prayers. Happy spring, everybody!]

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Patreon and Riwas Reads updates 3.3 (3)

Posted on February 25, 2019 by riwa

Riwa’s Stories at Patreon

Coming March Rewards
More of the Jaime Club saga.
More of the Island of death row inmates.
A drowning hit on a whore.
Drowning at the hidden Facility with poser renders.
A birthday hanging.
Samantha is hanged
Jasmine loves asphyxia during sex.
The last of the Peace Treaty as an added reward.
Leanne is “accidentally” hanged.
Either Purge night, Gambling your life away, or maybe both stories.

January stories/rewards will fall off at the end of February to make room for March rewards.
Surgery went well. Just waiting for news on the rest. Thank you for being my patrons.

Riwa’s Reads updates

Dear Diary 15 (plus bonus) (2-7-19)

17655 words – $6.00

From the keyboard of Richard “Riwa” Shepard comes a new Diary entry from Kristen. Included is a re-edited cavern story from many years ago.

Dear Diary 15 – Kristen’s Uncle is staying for a few days. He’s having trouble with his wife. Kristen wants to do her part to make him feel better by enjoying some swims with him. It’s a chapter where everyone in the family will get in a swim in the pool during his stay. (18 pages)

The “Mansion” – Lindsay runs from some dangerous men on the beach. She takes refuge in some underwater caverns known collectively as the “Mansion”, each chamber a unique room unto itself. But is the greater danger the men trying to catch her? Or is it the rising tide? (14 pages)

Included is a short bonus story of 625 words about an eager female named Misty.

Dear Diary 11 (plus Club bonus) (reactivated 2-7-19)

18782 words – $6.00

From the keyboard of Richard “Riwa” Shepard comes a trio of chapters starting with the next one in the Dear Diary saga. Included are the first two chapters of the four chapter “Wife’s Proposal” Club story.

Dear Diary 11 – Kristen sees mom and dad out in the pool so she goes down to watch. Her arms are cuffed behind her back as she gets caught up in their fun until Billy shows up. Then it is her mother’s turn. Will she finally get to see her mother’s comeuppance? Or will her dad and brother bubble them both?  (11 pages)

A Wife’s Proposal – Marital issues lead this wife to tempt her husband to take her to the Club and do away with her up on the Entertainment stage; that is, if he’s got the balls. She finds herself locked into one of the guillotines along with another female, the two of them playing guillotine roulette with a 50-50 chance of coming out with their head still attached. (8 pages)

A Wife’s Proposal 2 – More marital issues lead to her going out for a night on the town with her sister and a couple of her sister’s male co-workers. But when she tells them of her time at the Club on the Entertainment stage their two male companions want to see this place for themselves. She and her sister soon find themselves up on stage being pimped out as they play guillotine roulette over and over again. Will their luck hold out? Or will one of them pay the ultimate price? (12 pages)

The Guardians (plus Club bonus) (reactivated 2-7-19)

19742 words; $6.00

From the keyboard of Richard “Riwa” Shepard comes a brand new story inspired by a JustPaul illustration. Included are the last two chapters to the Club story A Wife’s Proposal.

The Guardians – Jessica Sampson is in search of a very special cargo that went down in a storm. But her guide is frightened, telling her there are mermaids in the area and they must leave immediately. Will her greed for gold get her in grave danger? (8 pages)

A Wife’s Proposal 3 – Zilpha’s husband Richard and his secretary Cynthia take her back to the Club for another dangerous night. But one woman will find herself strapped into the electric chair while the other will be noosed. Will he choose one over the other or will he do away with both of them? (14 pages)

A Wife’s Proposal 4 – A stupid fight at home escalates to the point where Richard takes Zilpha back to the Club. This time he picks out a girl in line. Afterwards he leaves his wife in one of those rooms with a guillotine, noose and electric chair as though encouraging some customer to take her all the way. Will this finally be the end of her when she gets to ride all three? Will Richard take that girl home from the line outside? (15 pages total for this concluding chapter, including 9 brand new pages)

Dear Diary 10 (plus bonus) (reactivated 2-15-19)

17844 words – $5.50

From the keyboard of Richard “Riwa” Shepard comes the latest chapter in the Dear Diary saga with a bonus story included that has been recently edited.

Dear Diary 10 – This time it’s a visit with her mom to the home of her best friend Tina and her mother Marie. But Kristen and Tina are about to learn there is much more to Marie than meets the eye. Out in the backyard pool they will soon discover hidden underwater desires that have just been uncovered by Kristen’s mother, bubbly desires she encourages Marie to act out upon the two unsuspecting daughters. (16 pages)

Naida’s Lesson – Serafina decides to use the indoor pool to make Naida pay for her flirtatious ways and for her pursuit of Anatoly, a man she considers as her own property. She will put her subordinates Mariya and Galina in scuba gear and use them to bind and subsequently torment Naida underwater while she watches from beyond the glass, teaching the woman an underwater lesson she will never forget. (18 pages)

My sister’s voyeur (plus Club bonus) (reactivated 2-15-19)

38702 words – $6.50

From the keyboard of Richard “Riwa” Shepard comes a pair of recently edited stories. I’ve spent all week working on them, with each one picking up a newly written chapter. I wanted to improve the endings to both tales so you can have a quality reading experience. 38702

My sister’s voyeur – In chapter one Stella comes home to change shirts and catches her sister Vanessa making out in the pool with Vanessa’s boyfriend Austin, both of them naked and being extremely sexual. In chapter two Stella has been thinking about Austin and is out in the pool enjoying a skinny-dip. Austin comes out after a fight with Vanessa. Stella teases him before giving him an uw blowjob. In the newly written third and last chapter Vanessa comes out, catches them in the act and gives her sister hell, tying her up and punishing her underwater with breathholds and orgasms. (3 chapters; 21 pages)

My visit to the Club 37-40 – Alison ends up in the water tank on stage. Then she is moved to the impalement cross while Mistress allows me to garrote her assistant in the luxury box. Next she goes to the electric chair as Mistress gives me her pain-slut Jessica. Finally she ends up in the noose where I come up and take things too far with her. In the new 40th chapter I am enticed to return to the Club where I meet a trio of girls out in line. I take them inside where Mistress and I enjoy them in a private room with none of them making it out alive as we use the chair, the guillotine and the noose on them. (4 long chapters; 46 pages)

Island 11-12 (plus club bonus) (2-22-19)

17764 words – $5.50

From the keyboard of Richard “Riwa” Shepard comes the continuation of a pair of long, older series recently edited, the Island of condemned Inmates and Jaime visiting the Club.

Island 11-12 – Susan is given the opportunity to survive if she can free herself from the platform by unlocking all the locks while being submerged. If she is successful it will be Christina’s turn. And if she is successful, both women will be allowed to choose who will take the challenge next. Afterwards comes a visit to Pleasure Island. (18 pages)

Jaime 13-15 – John watches two pageant contestants who are both strapped into guillotines, trying to see who the best whore is despite the risk of a popped sensor. But after he watches a garroting on the Entertainment stage he goes searching for his wife, badly needing a sexual release.

Miss Kansas has her arms and legs cooked for a Japanese businessman who then has the rest of her spitted and roasted while she is still alive. Then it is Miss West Virginia’s turn up on stage as she ends up sitting in the electric chair.

Miss Missouri’s sensor pops and she is immediately strung up right there in the sex room. But since a lot of men have paid to have sex with her, they are encouraged to fuck her while she hangs, allowing her to wrap her legs around each one to help her last in the noose for as long as possible. (17 pages)

Awkward Trios (2-22-19)

14294 words – $5.00

From the keyboard of Richard “Riwa” Shepard comes a couple stories about awkward trios, underwater triangles that manifest in rather unusual ways.

Confessions of a Realtor: Sean and Molly McTavish – Rosanna Posey takes on a couple who are both strong-willed and demanding. They can’t agree on anything except how much each one likes their realtor. Rosie finds herself caught in the middle, especially in the water where they each try to enjoy her services to the full. (16 pages)

The good girl and the bitch – Two women, one married and one single, attend a class reunion. One is looking for some action while the other is lonely and just wants to get away from her husband for the weekend. Both end up setting their sights on the same man who’s a former classmate. (12 pages)

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Gambling your life away (Part 2) 4.5 (13)

Posted on February 24, 2019 by riwa

Part II

Mr. Rick stopped shuffling, only to sweep the cards out in a long line on the table in front of the four sitting sisters. On the far end Emily looked at the row of cards as though one of them might bite her. On the other end Zilpha looked at the cards on the table, glanced over at the items of death, and then looked back at the cards as though uncertain. Dorothy and Winifred simply looked at each other as though conflicted.

“What do you ladies think?” he asked with a smile. “$100 a card for a 52 card deck plus the joker. Any takers?”

“A couple hundred would pay for a couple of our meals, love,” Zilpha quietly told Dorothy. “Can’t we at least draw a card or two?”

Her oldest sister wasn’t so sure. “Zilpha, are you crazy? Do you know what happens if one of us draws the joker??”

“Emily, it’s only one card!” And with that she hesitantly reached forward.

Her sisters gasped in alarm as she picked the one on the very end on her side. Emily gasped, “Zilpha; NO!” as she slid it toward herself. Then she carefully turned it over. It was the eight of spades.

Mr. Rick smiled as he reached into his drawer. He took out a hundred dollar bill and calmly placed it right in front of her. Then he told her, “Congratulations. Well done.”

Zilpha beamed with pride over the way she’d taken the risk and had been rewarded. Hell, that hadn’t been so hard, had it? She’d earned herself a hundred dollars simply by drawing a single card!

The other sisters looked at her in astonishment. They didn’t know whether to be shocked she’d drawn one or the fact she’d just earned a hundred dollars on one card. Zilpha grinned at them as she happily snatched up the hundred before he could take it back.

She inspected it before gleefully putting it back down on the table. She looked incredibly happy. “That’s one hundred dollars,” Mr. Rick told her with a smile. Then he addressed the others.

“Anyone else wish to try their luck? Or is Zilpha here the only one leaving our fair Club one hundred dollars richer?”

“I th-think I’ll try,” the sister sitting next to her replied, seeing how well their youngest sibling had been rewarded simply by taking a chance and drawing a card.

Emboldened, she hesitantly reached out for a card. Emily couldn’t believe it. “Winnie?? Don’t you dare!”

She was horrified her sister was taking such a chance. But she couldn’t stop her from running a hand over the top of the cards as though feeling for a lucky one. She finally settled on the one at the very end, the next one in line from where Zilpha had taken hers.

Winifred slid it along the surface of the felt table right in front of her. Then she slowly turned it over. Two of diamonds.

Without saying a word Mr. Rick calmly took out another bill from his drawer. He smiled as he placed it right in front of her. Then he looked at the other two sisters as though seeing whether or not they were going to draw a card.

“Two hundred dollars??” Zilpha gasped excitedly while looking at Winifred’s hundred dollar bill. “Bloody hell! A couple more like that and it’ll reimburse us for the tourist attractions we saw today!”

Dorothy inhaled sharply before reaching out with a trembling hand for the last card on Emily’s end. Her horrified older sister cried out, “Dottie, are you nuts??” But she slid the card away from the line and then carefully turned it over right in front of her. It was the ten of hearts.

“Congratulations,” Mr. Rick told her with a smile as he placed a bill right in front of her.

“Bloody hell!” Winifred gasped in growing excitement. “That’s three hundred dollars! C’mon, Emily! Draw one!”

The oldest saw her siblings watching her expectantly. She couldn’t very well back out now, could she… not when they’d easily drawn three cards with no damage. And Zilpa was right. Another hundred would pretty much reimburse them for today, along with some of the previous day’s attractions.

She scanned the row of cards, wondering which one she should draw. She nervously asked, “Any card on the table, Mr. Rick?”

“Any card you want, Miss.” His warm smile seemed somewhat reassuring.

Thinking her odds were best if she drew from the end like her sisters had done, Emily reached out and slid the last card in the row toward her. She slowly turned it over, trembling like crazy. At first she started to panic at what she thought it looked like. Then she realized it was only a face card, the queen of clubs.

The other sisters gasped happily as Mr. Rick pulled out another bill and placed it on the table right in front of her. Emily picked it up and looked at it in amazement. It was really a hundred dollar bill!

“That’s four hundred dollars, ladies,” he told them with a smile. “Four hundred dollars… just like that.”

“Can we draw again?”

“Zilpha?? Are you sure that’s wise?”

“Emily, there’s only one joker in the whole deck, right? Can you imagine what we could do with five hundred dollars… or a thousand?” Then she scanned the row in front of her before picking one out near her side about twelve cards in.

She slid it right in front of her, hesitated for a moment… and then turned it over next to her eight of spades. It was the same suit, the six of spades. Mr. Rick calmly reached into his drawer, pulled out another hundred dollar bill, and set it on top of the one she already had.

The sisters gasped in relief at their youngest sibling’s good fortune. But it was relief mixed with a little jealousy. Zilpha was now one hundred dollars ahead of them all.

Winfred looked at her with eyes of envy before starting to reach forward. Emily gasped in alarm… “Winnie??”

“If Zilpha’s got two, then I want two as well.” Then she reached out toward the center of the row of cards.

She picked one out of the middle and slid it toward her. The others held their breath as she turned it over next to the card she already had. It was the jack of spades.

Out came another bill to join the one sitting right in front of her. Mr. Rick nodded encouragingly at her as she let out a squeal of joy. The oldest couldn’t believe another one of her crazy sisters had brazenly drawn another card and had gotten away with it.

Winfred happily gasped, “Bloody hell! That’s… that’s six hundred dollars… just like that!”

“Just like that,” their generous dealer nodded with a smile and a snap of his fingers.

Dorothy hesitantly reached out and picked one out from the section in front of her two sisters on the right. This time Emily didn’t raise her voice in protest. But she still stiffened as her sister slid it along the table right in front of her.

She turned it over and they all saw the three of clubs. Mr. Rick promptly put another bill on top of the one she already had. Dorothy smiled happily as she turned and told their oldest sibling, “There. Now we have seven hundred dollars.”

“That’s only seven cards out of 53, ladies,” Mr. Rick told them with a smile. “Seven hundred dollars is a tidy sum. Do you want to try for more? Or shall I put the deck away?”

He looked expectantly at Emily as though waiting for her decision. “Draw another one, love!” Winifred urged. “Look how many cards are left!”

Emily scanned the faces of her sisters, only to see them watching as though trying to egg her on to draw another card. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. Then she reached out toward a section of cards in the row right in front of her.

Emily picked the card ninth from the end. She slid it right in front of her beside the other one she’d drawn before she hesitantly turned it over. It was the ace of diamonds.

“Congratulations,” Mr. Rick told her as he placed another bill right in front of her.

“That’s eight hundred dollars!” Zilpha blurted out excitedly. “Now we can take that boat ride out in the harbor tomorrow!” And with that she eagerly reached forward again.

“Zilpha; no!”

Emily inhaled sharply in alarm. But the youngest eagerly slid the card she’d chosen right in front of her next to the other two. Then she turned it over.

Ten of diamonds. Mr. Rick responded by promptly putting another bill on top of the two he’d already given her.

“Bloody hell!” Winifred gasped eagerly. “I want another one too!” And with that she reached out toward the row of cards before their oldest could protest.

She picked out a card from somewhere near the middle of the row. She slid it right in front of her next to the others she’d drawn. Then she turned it over with a minimal amount of hesitation.

Queen of spades. Winifred squealed with glee. Out came another bill to add to the two she already had.

They now had a thousand dollars sitting right there in front of them. And there were still 43 cards left in the row. It almost felt like shooting fish in a barrel!

Dorothy wanted a third one too. Before anyone could stop her she reached out, slid another out of the middle toward her and then turned it over. It was the king of spades.

Emily was relieved as the other sisters clapped jubilantly. Mr. Rick put another bill right in front of Dorothy who felt giddy with excitement. This was turning out far better than she could have possibly anticipated.

Emily dubiously looked at the row of cards in front of her. “Cmon, love!” Zilpha eagerly urged. She couldn’t very well stop now, could she… not when the others had three hundred dollars while she only had two?

She hesitantly reached out and slid another one toward her before turning it over. Nine of hearts. The other sisters cheered excitedly as another bill was proudly added to her growing stack.

Mr. Rick smiled at them. “Well done, ladies. That’s $1,200 so far. That’s quite a reward just for wanting to come inside and have a look around. You didn’t even have to insert those nasty pregnancy sensors into your bellybuttons.”

“We should get more!” Zilpha excitedly told her sisters. “We can pay for most of our holiday in the States with what we get right here!” And with that she boldly reached into the middle of the row of cards.

She picked one out and slid it toward her. Then she turned it over next to her other three cards. There was a loud gasp from everyone as the face of the jester stared up at them.

Zilpha let out a yelp of dismay. She whimpered dejectedly as Mr. Rick reached out and took the bills away from her. Then he reached under the table.

“I can’t believe I drew the joker!” she wailed. The other sisters were stunned. Winifred was the first one to wonder what this actually meant as her eyes opened wide in horror.

Mr. Rick smiled sadly at them. “I honestly thought you were going to take another grand from me before you quit. What rotten luck. If it would have been me, I probably would have tried again just like you did.”

Zilpha gasped as she stared at him, shock beginning to set in. Emily couldn’t believe it. “Bloody hell, love! What were you thinking?? Did you have to draw another card??”

“But I thought we could get up to $1,500 easy! Look at all the cards that are left! I only lost my $300!”

For the moment she seemed to have forgotten – or didn’t want to consider – what had actually been at risk. Mr. Rick calmly reminded her with a smile. “That’s not all you’ve lost, Miss.” Then he motioned with his head toward the ominous objects waiting along the wall.

Zilpha turned to look at what he was referring to. Then she blanched as she remembered the rules. “Are you k-kidding?? Surely you don’t mean I… I… I just l-lost my life; d-do you, Mr. Rick??”

“I’m afraid that’s exactly what it means.”

“But you can’t DO that!” Emily blurted out in horror. “She’s our youngest sister!”

“I’m afraid I can, Miss,” he told her kindly. “You knew the rules when we started.”

At that moment the door opened to allow an attendant in sexy black domination attire to step into the room. Mr. Rick acknowledged her with a smile. “Ladies, this is Monique. She’s in charge of our Entertainment Stage. I summoned her here the moment the joker was drawn.” Then he addressed her by saying, “Monique? Would you be so kind as to assist the sister on the end there named Zilpha to kindly strip out of her clothes so she can be put into our guillotine?”

“Guillotine??” Emily gasped in horror. “You mean you’re going to… to BEHEAD HER??”

“Certainly, Mr. Rick,” Monique replied with a smile. Then she came over, grabbed Zilpha by the arm and pulled her to her feet. “Come along, Miss. Let’s get you out of your clothes and get you locked into the lunette.”

“Wait a minute!” Dorothy blurted out in alarm, her face ashen. “You’re going to put her into the guillotine and behead her just like that??”

“She did draw the joker, Miss. Those were the rules you agreed to when you started playing the game.”

“D-Dorothy, DO SOMETHING!” Zilpha was on the verge of hyperventilating as Monique started working her out of her clothes.

“What can I do??” Then she anxiously turned toward their dealer. “Sir, can’t you… can’t you DO something about this??”

“I gave you every opportunity, Miss. You ladies knew the rules. It was certainly fun acquiring my money while you were winning, was it not? After all, you still have $900 among the three of you.”

“Can’t we like… buy her back or something??” That was a frantic Emily clutching at straws.

“She drew the joker. That means her life must be forfeited. That was the risk you agreed to when you started drawing cards.”

Zilpha whimpered as she half struggled against the woman undressing her. When she was completely naked she blushed with shame as she was led over to the guillotine and made to kneel. Her head was locked into the lunette before her arms were securely fastened behind her back with some rope.

Emily blurted out, “Sir, you… you can’t just behead our sister like that!”

“Can’t I? You all willingly played the game and started drawing cards. You could have stopped anytime you wanted. But you wanted a little more. Did you really expect me to change the rules in the middle of the game once one of you drew the joker?”

“But what will our folks say when we go back to England without our sister??”

“Take some of her meat back and have a nice celebration dinner in honor of her life.”

“We can’t do that!”

“All ready,” the executrix declared as she stood next to the machine, her hand on the lever.

“No, wait!” Emily blurted out as she started to hyperventilate while staring at her sister locked helplessly in the guillotine. Dorothy was gasping anxiously for breath. Winifred looked like she was liable to faint.

“Very good, Monique.” Then Mr. Rick smiled kindly at Zilpha before asking, “Do you have any last words to say to your sisters before we commence with the beheading?”

Her throat was dry; it was hard to speak. “I… I don’t… I… bloody hell!” She was trembling like a leaf as she whimpered, kneeling there naked with her neck exposed to the blade.

Emily cried out, “Sir, you can’t just execute our sister like that! Surely there’s got to be a way for us to do something!”

“Like what?”

“Can’t we like… win her back or something?” Winifred and Dorothy nodded hopefully, wondering if there was any possible way of sparing their youngest sibling from the blade and from ending up roasting over an open fire down in the kitchen.

He looked over at his attendant who looked back at him before shrugging her shoulders. “That would be highly irregular; wouldn’t it, Monique?”

“True, Mr. Rick. But Mistress Chastity did give you a great deal of leeway in exchange for serving as part owner of the Club.”

“Hmmm.”

He looked down at the table and the remaining cards still lying in a row. He appeared to be deep in thought. The sisters all looked at him hopefully.

He carefully examined the cards having been turned over. Then he looked at the sisters. “Well… perhaps we could extend the game for one more draw.”

“One more draw?” Winifred repeated anxiously.

“Could we??” Emily asked, wondering if there was actually a ray of hope.

Dorothy looked at him with anxiety in her features as she asked, “What are you proposing? Can we… can we somehow win our sister back?”

“I suppose one of you could draw one more card for her life.”

“We could draw to win her life back?”

“I think I could allow that. Of course that means one of you will be risking your life in order to save hers.”

“Risking our life??” Dorothy gasped anxiously as her sisters stared at him in alarm. “What does that mean?”

“It means if you lose, your sister over there will not be the only one to be executed in this room. It’s a very risky gamble, to be sure. But I suppose in this case I could allow it.”

Over in the guillotine Zilpha whimpered before blurting out, “D-Dottie, do something! I don’t want to lose my head!” She was trembling and was wet as hell between her legs, her nipples erect from the predicament she now found herself in. Monique simply smiled at them all while standing there with her hand on the lever.

“One of us has to risk our life to win her back??” Emily repeated in dismay.

“This is a place of gambling and risks, ladies. I probably shouldn’t even allow this. But Monique is right. I suppose I can use my influence to grant an extension of the game just this once.”

Winifred blurted out, “But the joker’s already been drawn!”

“And so it has. According to what I see on the table it appears that five spades, two clubs, three diamonds and two hearts have been drawn. That is seven cards of the black color and five cards of the red color out of a deck of fifty-two. That leaves nineteen clubs and spades, and twenty-one hearts and diamonds.”

He paused for effect as they looked at the cards on the table. Then he continued. “How about I make this simple. One of you chooses which color to draw. If you choose right, your sister gets to live. If you choose wrong, you must die with her.”

“Die with her??” Dorothy repeated in alarm. It was bad enough Zilpha’s life hung by that blade above her neck. Did they actually have to risk the life of a second sister just to try winning her back??

“Can’t someone like… die in her place if we lose?” Emily nervously suggested. She was willing to at least consider the option, not that she wanted to be beheaded.

“Any draw of the cards is a risk to the life of the one who draws. I am simply sweetening the pot by returning the life of your sister to you should you win. I will even include her $300 earnings. What do you think, ladies? Does one of you want to take the ultimate risk to save your sister? Or shall I have her beheaded right now?”

It wasn’t the optimum of choices. The only positive was in having more hearts and diamonds left to choose from. But a loss meant a second sister would immediately be condemned to certain death.

“I don’t think we have a choice,” Winifred murmured unhappily. “I’ll be the one to…”

“Oh, no you won’t!” Emily interrupted her. “I’m the oldest; it’s my responsibility! I should take the risk.”

“Are you sure?” Dorothy asked anxiously.

“Bloody hell, love! Just get me out of here, ok? Let her draw the bloody card that will save me!” Zilpha had wet herself while kneeling with her head in the lunette. Seeing the wicker basket waiting below was unnerving as hell.

Mr. Rick asked, “I assume you’ll be trying to draw a heart or diamond since there are more of them left?” Emily gulped and nodded.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Dorothy anxiously queried her sister.

“Just draw the bloody card and get me out of here!” Zilpha was on the verge of hysterics.

Emily gulped and nodded as she hesitantly reached out toward the row of cards. Her hand was trembling; she was shaking like a leaf as beads of sweat broke out on her forehead. Dorothy and Winifred watched her move toward a card as Zilpha whimpered plaintively.

Emily reached out and touched one, only to pull her hand back as though the card was hot to the touch. Then she looked up at the dealer.  “Mr. Rick, do I have to take that one?”

“The one you choose is the one you pull out and turn over.”

The oldest exhaled and nodded. Once more she tentatively reached out toward the row. She touched another card, appeared to hesitate… and then slid the one she’d just touched out of the line.

She slid it right in front of her as she panted like crazy. Then she closed her eyes and turned it over. Dorothy and Winifred cried out when they saw it.

Four of clubs.

Emily’s eyes flew open in horror. Then she turned toward Zilpha in shock as Mr. Rick nodded at Monique. Zilpha was just starting to ask, “What card did sh-?” Then the blade fell, severing her neck and causing her head to drop into the waiting wicker basket below.

Winifred fell off her chair and collapsed in a heap, fainting dead away. Dorothy let out a mournful wail as she wet herself. Emily went white as a sheet, realizing she’d lost not just her sister, but her own life as well.

Mr. Rick reached over and pulled out the card Emily had first touched. Then he turned it over. Seven of hearts. Emily should have gone with her first choice. To rub it in, he reached out and withdrew her winnings as well.

Monique politely reached down and pulled out Zilpha’s head for all to see. Blood dripped from her severed neck. Her eyes were wide in shock, her mouth gaping open from her last words.

Her eyelids fluttered, her lips twitching as though trying to speak. Then her naked body tumbled over onto its side as it went into spasms and convulsions. Blood pumped out of her severed neck until she settled down, only to jerk and twitch from the occasional muscle spasm.

Emily saw her sister’s head and her naked, spasming body. Then she looked at the card she should have stuck with. She closed her eyes as she collapsed forward onto the table, sobbing into her arms at her failure to protect her sister. Dorothy just kept staring as though it couldn’t be real.

Mr. Rick nodded at his executrix. “Well done, Monique. You handled that very well. Now would you be so kind as to help this sister on the end out of her clothes and into the chair. Perhaps we’ll allow her to feel some current before we send her down to the kitchen along with her sibling.”

2018 (written for Dorothy Jan 23 ’18 by riwa)

Posted in Club stories, Dorothy and her friends | Tagged | Leave a comment

The Peace Treaty 8-9 1 (1)

Posted on February 18, 2019 by riwa

THE ISLAND OF CONSENSUAL EXECUTIONS

The Peace Treaty

By riwa

 Author’s note: This is written by request for Arachnid with his permission and with him previewing the material, being as how it is his original idea.

An impoverished Caribbean island nation nears bankruptcy.  In order to raise cash income from “tourists”, the nation’s leaders in desperation pass a law — consensual executions of sane and un-coerced foreigners by other foreigners will be legal in public execution areas on the island. (Original idea for the Island of Consensual Executions created by Arachnid.)

 

8 Busy Gallows

I do not see my parents during the lunch hour. But I do get to share my meal with the remainder of my family. My youngest brother Bortan tries to make light of the situation with jokes. It helps to lighten the mood.

I quietly ask Dontel and Martine if there is anything more I can do for them. They tell me to let their young children know they have gone away on a long trip and will not be back for a very long time. “When they are older and can be made to understand then you can more fully explain to them what happened,” my sister-in-law says with a sniffle. Tears well up in my eyes as I give her a fierce embrace.

There is very little time granted to me after lunch. Gabrielle goes off to meet with the hotel concierge to sign off on the executions. I simply cannot stand by to witness my family signing their death warrants. So I go for a short walk along the beach.

I gaze longingly across the water, finding myself thinking of home and of days gone by. Precious family memories flood my mind, bringing tears to my eyes. But I am to marry Prince Osman. That’s when it occurs me I will probably never see my homeland again.

When I return I notice that a crowd has gathered over by the gallows. Gabrielle is already there waiting for me as are my family members. Each one to be hung stands with hands already secured behind their backs.

Prince Osman is there with his best man and his entourage of both victims and voyeurs. He glares at me as though this is somehow my fault. I look back at him in disgust. I may have been somewhat intrigued with his power and presence during the beheadings.  But now I am filled with revulsion.

Naturally the camera is there recording the event. But this time a male stands behind the equipment. Perhaps the female who was there before has grown weary of witnessing execution after execution and has excused herself. I know I am certainly growing weary of it all.

“Who will begin the proceedings?” the guard at the base of the steps asks formally. There is only one trap, meaning this will take twice as long.

“I will go first!” Prince Osman declares. He gives me an angry glare as he marches a young woman in a short dress up the steps. With her arms bound behind her back he has to be careful to steady her as she goes up to her death on wobbly legs.

There is no announcement like there was this morning… no person of supposed importance pontificating before an audience. Perhaps all the relevant individuals are off to their meetings, trying to finalize the Peace Accord. These will be nothing more than simple executions – a different war of sorts with no bullets, only a noose making corpses out of the doomed citizens of two warring countries.

I watch as he moves the young woman on top of the trap. Then he proceeds to put straps around her ankles and knees. When I hear him ask if she wants a hood she nods. Clearly she is anxious over what is about to happen to her.

He pulls a white hood down over her head before looping the noose around her throat. He cinches it snug around her neck. Then he steps back to the lever, pauses… and then pulls it…

THWAP! CRACK!

I jerk with a start as I hear her neck break. Her body jerks and twists at the end of the rope until she is still. Then two men in military garb come up to her. They confirm she is dead before taking her down. The guard then motions to me that I am next.

I swallow a lump down my throat as I escort a bound female Capree citizen in a very nice dress up the steps. I am careful to make sure she does not trip and fall. It would be ironic if not dishonorable were she to break her neck before hanging. Thankfully our short trip together up the steps is uneventful.

I strap her ankles and knees together and then quietly offer her a hood. “No thank you, little one,” she says nobly. I almost tear up at her use of the term of endearment.

She declares, “I will hang bravely, a proud citizen of Capree.” Her voice is trembling; she is clearly unnerved. My hands are shaking, my heart beating fast.

“You honor me and our country,” I murmur into her ear as I loop the noose over her head and cinch it around her neck. She stands a little taller, proudly sticking her chest out.

I resist the urge to give the Prince a haughty look. I am proud of the bravery of one of our citizens over one of his. Then I step back and grasp the lever.

“Die well,” I murmur. Then I gather my courage and dutifully pull the lever…

THWAP! CRACK!

I jerk when I hear her neck break. That’s when I feel those shameful stirrings once again. At least it was a job well done, one I believe I performed better than my counterpart. Then I descend the steps with my head high, briefly giving him a scornful look as I pass by.

One by one we alternate between executions. With each Bakir hanging I feel a stronger response than the one before. A sexual stirring has risen within that shames me, although it brings some pleasurable tingles that I latch onto for comfort.

There is a noticeable change in the Prince’s demeanor when he finally hangs someone dear to him. I can see it in his eyes as well as the eyes of the one he prepares for the noose. Often there is a moment of affection – a word or perhaps a hug. Then they are dropped to their deaths.

No more hoods are used. Now it has become a matter of national pride. Each volunteer bravely faces their death with faces uncovered, their eyes reflecting fear, sorrow, regret or noble resignation along with the occasional expression of some sort of perverse excitement they are experiencing.

When it is my brother Bortan’s turn I find myself reluctant to escort him up the steps. He tries to make light of the situation, telling me this is his punishment for all those times he roughhoused with me by tackling me to the ground. I chuckle weakly and then noose him up before giving him one last hug.

“Goodbye, little one,” he murmurs softly.

“Goodbye, my brother. Be brave.” Then I step back, grab onto the lever and pull…

THWAP! CRACK!

I jerk as his neck snaps, my body tingling shamefully. Again I must force back the tears that wish to flow. Then it is the turn of Prince Osman.

He prepares one of his brothers and I see sadness and pain in his countenance. This time I am not so glad watching him as he hangs one of his family. I can see it hurts him as much as it has hurt me hanging my brother. Then the trap opens; his brother falls; the neck snaps. I wince in sorrow and shame, inwardly cursing those shameful sexual stirrings.

Dontel is next and I carefully take him up the steps. “I am sorry I must do this,” I tell him as I position him over the trap. Then I solemnly strap his ankles and knees.

“I hold no grudge, little one,” he says kindly, although I hear the nervousness in his voice. “I am willing to die for you and for country if I must.”

There are tears in my eyes when I finish. Then I step back to the lever and numbly give it a pull…

THWAP! CRACK! Another of my precious family is no more.

As we progress I can tell the executions are having an effect on the filthy Bakir Prince, just as they are having an effect on me. But whereas I feel I am softening I sense Prince Osman is hardening. There is anger in the way he nooses and drops the citizens of his country. It bleeds through even more when he nooses his own family members.

Finally it is Martine’s turn to ascend the steps, following her husband and my brother to their deaths. She sees the haunted look in my eyes and tries to comfort me. “It is okay, little one,” she murmurs kindly. Then she sighs. “My only regret is that I will not live to see my children grow up. Nevertheless, I am ready.”

She carries herself with grace and pride as I noose her and then hug her tightly. She catches her breath with a gasp as I step back to the lever… THWAP! CRACK! When her neck breaks my heart breaks with it, even as my body responds with shameful sexual tingles.

The Prince escorts one last woman up the steps. Gabrielle quietly tells me it is his older sister. I watch him hug her before angrily noosing her up, torn between his grief and his rage. Then he reaches for the lever and perfunctorily drops her…

THWAP! CRACK!

Her body jerks at the end of the rope, spasming and convulsing involuntarily. I jerk with it, feeling those shameful stirrings as her body eventually hangs limp. I am grateful the proceedings are finally at an end.

9 Last one for the gallows

The Prince eyes me coldly as he comes down from the gallows after having just executed his older sister. “I know what you did to my sister last night,” he growls sinisterly. “You will pay dearly for executing a Bakir, you Capree scum.”

“It was not by choice, I can assure you,” I spit back at him. “Of your entire family I have found only her to be the most honorable. She came and sought me out of her own free will. It was her wish to be hanged; not mine. I was duty-bound to honor her request. Check with the guard who worked the gallows last night if you must.”

“It will not matter,” he says to me and I see his eyes flicker dangerously. “I will have my revenge. Already I have put my word in to members of the council who are now meeting to discuss terms. Rest assured, you will see your parents executed by the end of the day.”

I gasp as my eyes fly open wide. “You Bakir FILTH! How DARE you!”

I turn to my handmaiden but she is no longer at my side. Where could she have gone? No matter; I will deal with this myself if I must.

With barely controlled fury I hiss, “You will leave my parents alone or you will suffer my wrath!” I have no idea what I could possibly do to him. But I vow to find a way if it comes to that.

“Bah! What does the wrath of a female Capree scum mean to me?”

“You can try me in hand-to-hand combat at your earliest convenience if you have the nerve.” Then I proudly hold myself upright. I will defend the honor of my family if I must, even though it may cost me my life.

Our dialogue is suddenly interrupted. “Just as I suspected,” a new voice interjects. I turn to see that Gabrielle has returned. But it is not her that has spoken. It is the Bakir female camera operator at her side, the one I saw earlier making the recordings.

The Prince scowls at her. “This does not concern you, Triawn!”

She icily replies, “I was there at the tidal stakes, remember? And I was there recording the event when the beheadings began this morning. Where, pray tell, were you, noble Prince?”

“That was not my doing!” he says indignantly.

“Oh, wasn’t it? This brave Capree woman willingly beheaded two members of her precious family – a sister and brother-in-law. She even privately beheaded her betrothed. I film the news, Prince; I or have you forgotten. Now I am disgusted with all this Bakir deception. I am ashamed to be Bakir. At least your sister Drucilla did the noble thing by requesting the services of this honorable woman.” Then she calmly yet resolutely turns in my direction.

“That is why I summoned your handmaiden, mistress. I wish for an honorable execution. I wish for you to hang me. I am disgusted with this whole process.”

I am shocked, but Prince Osman is infuriated. “Triawn, you will do no such thing! I will not permit this outrage!”

“You have no choice in the matter. The consent forms have already been signed. I will have my execution.”

“If you wish to hang then I will do the deed myself! No Capree scum will hang any Bakir, certainly not this day!”

“I will not be hanged by the likes of you, Prince Osman. The word is out about our Bakir treachery. Your own parents have acted deceitfully in order to spare your family, leaving the peace treaty teetering on the brink of collapse. Our uneasy truce may fall apart into full-scale war before the day is over, no thanks to you, your mother or your father.”

Prince Osman is incredulous. He stammers in protest, “My parents did no such thing!” Then he turns in my direction, glaring at me in warning.

“Go ahead, Capree scum! But if you hang Triawn I will see to it that both your parents are executed… one for my sister and one for this filthy traitor.”

“Tell me, noble Prince,” my handmaiden asks curiously. “Just how will the council react when this deception is made public to both countries? What will happen to the peace process then? Whose parents will end up being executed over this treachery?”

He sputters, suddenly at a loss for words. Then he storms off. Triawn turns toward me kindly yet firmly.

“I have had enough of this. My soul is stained from my participation in these matters. I saw how moved you were when you drowned your sister at the tidal stakes. And I saw how affected you were after you beheaded your betrothed. I had no idea the process had become so one-sided until it was revealed to me. I humbly ask that you grant me the execution I desire by your hand.”

I look at Gabrielle who shrugs her shoulders and sighs. “The Prince already knows you hanged his sister. I have signed the papers for you; what does it matter now? Besides,” and she turns to look at the determined Bakir camera operator. “I could not have imagined I would ever meet one honorable Bakir in my lifetime. Now I have met two.”

Triawn lowers her head, quietly murmuring to my handmaiden, “You honor me with your words.” Then she turns to me, her eyes set like flint. “Will you honor me by serving as my executioner?”

I look at Gabrielle feeling as though I have no choice in the matter. She hands me a length of rope she has in her hand. Triawn smiles at me before turning around and dutifully bringing her hands up behind her back.

My handmaiden smiles sadly as she tells me, “She will be the last, little one; I promise.” I nod, thankful I will not have to hang anyone else this day. Then the Bakir woman turns and looks at me with a knowing smile.

“I have witnessed how you have held yourself back during all these executions, mistress. I commend you for your composure. But this time things are different.”

“Oh? How is that?”

She smiles as she says, “I give you permission to free yourself from your self-control. When you hang me I wish for you to let yourself go… for both our sakes.”

Her words startle me. I shake my head as I tell her, “I cannot.”

“But I am requesting it.”

I look to Gabrielle in astonishment. My handmaiden looks back, equally incredulous. Then the Bakir woman addresses the guard.

“I wish for mistress to treat me shamefully as befitting this exposed Bakir treachery. It is my choice… my request. Take note if you must report this.”

She turns back to face me, appearing resolute. The guard gives me a look and nods as though indicating the request is reasonable and I am officially protected.

I turn again to Gabrielle. She smiles and nods at me, murmuring there will never be another opportunity such as this. That’s when I feel an abrupt surge of shameful excitement.

Triawn sees it in my expression and nods, becoming fearfully excited. “Yes, mistress,” she says almost in a whisper. “Enjoy my execution. For me it is both a terror and a thrill I will not deny myself.”

I swallow hard and then gather my nerve. “Understand this is not personal,” I murmur into her ear. Then in a loud voice I proclaim, “Come with me, you Bakir filth! The noose awaits!”

She gasps as I grab her arm and march her up the steps. A quick glance at her blouse reveals her obvious arousal. Her nipples have become quite hard.

For some reason this excites me even more. I get her to the top and march her over to the trap. Then I begin strapping her ankles and knees.

“You will hang today, Bakir filth! You will hang and I will enjoy it to the full!” To my shame I realize just how true my statement has become.

Triawn gasps and moans, her body trembling as I finish applying the straps. I am almost as excited as she appears to be. Then I throw the noose over the crosspiece and secure it before looping it around her throat cinching it down snug as I set the knot near her left ear.

I sadistically growl, “There will be no hood for you, Bakir filth! You will cross over into the next life with your eyes uncovered!” Then I grasp her blouse and rip it downward, exposing her breasts. Her nipples are incredibly hard. I am shamefully aroused.

She pants heavily for breath, her eyes wide as I reach out and molest her. Then I lift up her skirt and rub her moistened crotch. She writhes and moans, involuntarily bringing her legs together.

There is a look of gratitude in her eyes, gratitude mixed with a very great excitement. “Now you hang!” I proclaim as I step over to the lever. She pants heavily as I grasp and pull vehemently…

THWAP! CRACK!

Her cry as she falls is cut short, her neck snapping as she hits the end of the rope and bounces. It causes me to climax shamefully hard. All the pent-up energy from a long afternoon of witnessing hanging after hanging explodes out of me in that one moment.

It is a much-needed release. I actually feel better as I descend the steps with deliberate grace. “You look amazing, little one,” my handmaiden whispers. “Would I be wrong to surmise you needed that every bit as much as she craved her humiliation?”

I wave her to silence. “I need a bath, Gabrielle. And I need some time to be alone. Can you arrange that?”

She nods quietly. Then we both leave the gallows area. I notice we have a handful of spectators who remained upon learning of the Bakir’s desire to hang. Now they disperse as well, murmuring among themselves as I get an occasional glance of admiration…

(written for Arachnid Dec 19 ’11 by riwa)

Posted in Santamos Island stories | Tagged | Leave a comment

Bamboo pays the price 4.3 (8)

Posted on February 18, 2019 by riwa

He had it all recorded. She had no idea he’d hooked up a little camera to watch her pool. But that little decision coupled with his secret installation had paid off.

He watched the recording of her latest fuck having just ended a few minutes ago. It was some guy he didn’t recognize. Bamboo had told her he was the only one in her life. But that had proved to be a bald-faced lie.

Naturally the camera was topside and wasn’t able to record everything. It didn’t capture what had transpired underwater. But it didn’t really need to. There was clearly enough evidence to indicate she was guilty as sin.

He thought about it for a long moment, unsure just how to feel. He was a jealous man, wanting her all to himself. Maybe he should have been more suspicious from the very beginning when she’d admitted to having fucked many men before he’d entered the picture.

She’d told him she’d fallen in love and was giving up her past. But apparently she had not been successful in purging her promiscuous ways from her system. This latest recording indicated her recent rendezvous in the water had probably been repeated many times in the past.

He got into his vehicle and drove over. He was going to have it out with Bamboo. He was going to tell her it was over. He was going to beg her to stop her promiscuous ways. He was going to… hell, he didn’t know what the hell he was going to do!

It was late at night, but according to the camera she was still in the water, no doubt luxuriating from her recent fuck. Her colorful bikini had returned, the one he was rather fond of. Why had she even bothered putting it back on? Did she suspect he might drop in on her? After all, he’d told her he might be coming over after his late shift had ended.

He pulled up in her driveway and shut off the engine. Once more he pulled up the view of the camera on his iPhone. She was still outside in her back yard.

He sighed as he got out of the car. He tried the front door and found it was unlocked. But he supposed it had to be if she was entertaining all those men underwater who came over.

Why did it have to be in her backyard pool? It was where he loved fucking her the most. It felt like an even greater betrayal.

He emerged into the back yard. She was standing there drying herself off. She jerked with a start when she saw him. Was that an expression of guilt she was trying to disguise?

“Evening, Pascal. It got late so I went for a swim without you.”

He stood there in silence, his anger building. He looked at the water and his mind was immediately filled with the images on his iPhone of her recent conquest. He could only imagine just how much she’d probably enjoyed herself.

“Pascal? Is anything wrong?” Again, he didn’t answer. He didn’t know what to say and was afraid the first thing out of his mouth would be something he would later regret.

“Honey, it’s getting late and I’m kind of tired. Maybe we can put off fucking until some other night. Would you like to come inside for a few minutes? I can fix you a drink before you go.”

Again he said nothing. He felt numb all over. He could only imagine how her body must have reacted to having been recently fucked in her backyard pool… fucked by someone other than him.

Bamboo became indignant. “Look, I don’t know what’s gotten into you tonight. Maybe you want to fuck. I’m sorry, but I’m tired. Could we try for tomorrow night?”

Was she putting him off? Was she telling him when and where – and who – she was willing to fuck? It made the rage inside him start to swell.

“I’m going inside,” she told him somewhat defiantly. But as she started to walk past he grabbed her and flung her into the water. She hit with a splash and came up sputtering.

“Are you fucking crazy?? What the hell’s the matter with you??” Again he said nothing. But he numbly began to undress right there in front of her.

“Pascal, what are you doing? I told you ‘not tonight’, ok? I’m sorry, but I’m all worn out. I had a really long day.”

“I’ll just bet you did.” They were the first words out of his mouth.

“Now what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

She angrily climbed out of the water and stood up, only for him to grab her and throw her back into the pool. She let out a cry before she hit with a splash. Once more she came up sputtering.

“Damnit, Pascal! I said ‘not tonight’! Are you deaf or something??”

He walked naked down the steps into the water. She eyed him defiantly. Inwardly she felt a mixture of arousal and alarm.

“Damnit, Pascal, I said…” That was all she got out before he viciously submerged her. Bubbles spewed out of her mouth and nose before she came back up.

“That’s great! That’s just fucking great! You think you can make me? Damnit, Pascal, I…”

Once more he forced her down into the water. This time he submerged to join her. She bubbled indignantly as she struggled in his grasp.

It occurred to her he seemed furious about something. Did he know about the man she’d just had over? She thought she’d hidden that from him pretty well.

She tried to surface, but he grabbed her by the throat. She cried out as she struggled again. What the hell was wrong with him??

She tried to reach for the surface. But he jerked her back under with her. Now he was fumbling with her top, working it loose. Damn! He’d never been this aggressive before!

With her top floating away he forced her head down to his dick. It was becoming erect. It was also the last thing she wanted after the fuck she’d enjoyed earlier.

‘Maybe if I suck him off he’ll go away,’ she thought resentfully. Reluctantly she took him into her mouth. All those erotic feelings she always encountered underwater began to return, even though she’d already recently fucked in her pool.

She took him into her mouth like a good girl. But he forced her to take it deeper. She almost gagged as he grabbed her by the back of her head and fucked her skull.

He fucked her face good and hard until he let her go. She shot up to the surface and gasped for breath, spewing obscenities. That’s when he forced her back down.

She winced with his hard cock staring at her. She didn’t like him this way, not in the slightest. Once more it made her wonder if maybe he knew about her extracurricular activities.

She tried to show a little enthusiasm. Maybe if she made him cum he might leave her alone. Maybe all he wanted was a release.

She sucked him underwater the way she knew he liked it. But his hand was in her hair, making her take it down her gullet. She didn’t really like that, although she had to admit to a certain level of arousal at being forced like this.

A moment later he was cumming in her mouth. She tasted it and couldn’t help getting aroused by being forced to take his load. She was still pissed off at him. But she decided to forgive him this one time.

He pulled his cock out of her mouth, his cum swirling out and creaming the water. Maybe that would be the end of it. She was turned on though as her nipples were extremely hard. Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all.

She thought that was it as she started to head for the surface. He just grabbed her and jerked her back down with him. Then he pulled her bottoms off. Now she was really indignant.

He bent her over and entered her from behind. It was a raw, savage underwater fuck she would have enjoyed under any other circumstances. But she was pissed at him for forcing himself on her like this.

He grabbed her hips and started pumping her. Damn; he was being forceful! What the hell had made him like this? Once more she wondered if perhaps he knew about her indiscretions. But how the hell could he know??

He gave it to her good and hard. Pascal must have had a lot of pent-up energy. Maybe he’d gone through a bad day and needed a good fuck. But did he have to be so rough with her??

He savagely squeezed her breasts, more aggressively than he had ever squeezed them before. She liked it a little; she was definitely turned on by the encounter. But something about it felt off.

Pascal fucked his girlfriend with a savagery he had not thought possible. She had certainly sucked well, and her pussy was clenching wonderfully. But it was as though he’d become someone else.

He grabbed her hair and fucked her with a fervor. Amazingly his cock was still hard. Could it be from the rage he was trying to suppress?

Bamboo tried to lift her head up to the surface for another breath. But he wasn’t letting her up. He knew she liked to push herself underwater before she came. But did he have to cut it so damned close??

Bamboo grunted and bubbled as her lungs began to burn. She really needed another breath. What the hell was wrong with him?? Didn’t he realize she was almost out of air??

He pounded her hard, a hand firmly entangled in her hair. She started grunting and bubbling in growing alarm. She really needed another breath! What the hell was the matter with him??

“No, damn you! Let me up, you big lummox!” But he refused to allow her head to come up for another breath. Her lungs were on fire, her chest heaving ominously. If he didn’t let her up soon she was going to cum and drown!

“Pascal; NO!!” A moment later she swallowed a little water. Bamboo jerked as she inhaled a mouthful down her windpipe.

She gurgled as she thrashed about, fully impaled on his cock. Her hair flew every which way as she started coughing up bubbles. Her pussy clenched until she shuddered in orgasm.

Bamboo was dimly aware of Pascal shooting another load deep into her pussy. Her body reacted with another shudder of pleasure. But her lungs hurt as she tried to scream without success.

Her senses were shutting down as her vision began to dim. He was still fucking her, violently fucking her. She trembled as stray muscles fired while an occasional bubble was fucked out of her flooded lungs.

She felt herself fading away. She could no longer move; she was at the mercy of her boyfriend and his hard, throbbing cock. But he didn’t seem the least bit interested in stopping. Then her vision failed as oblivion mercifully claimed her.

He kept on fucking her long after she’d stopped moving. With his head above water he was getting all the air he needed. Strangely she was acting as though she didn’t need it for herself anymore.

He pulled out of her and turned her around. “Fucking bitch!” he thought angrily. Then he angrily put a foot in her chest, forcing her to the bottom.

He got out of the pool and used a nearby towel to partially dry himself off. Then he got dressed and left the back yard. He didn’t even bother looking back to see whether she had surfaced or not.

The next day he learned his girlfriend had been found at the bottom of her pool. He wondered if it was one of her other lovers. It made him feel sad.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her. He remembered being in a rage and thinking he’d gone over to have it out with her. But he honestly couldn’t remember if he’d fucked her or not. In his fury his mind had simply blocked it out.

The cops would eventually find the camera and would start making inquiries as to who it belonged to.

2018 (written Nov 15 ’18 by riwa)

(Inspired by the Sex underwater pictures from the clip Not Tonight, Honey which are included for illustration purposes only.)

Posted in Drowning Stories, Picture Stories | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment