WhipsThe whimpering bitch is on her back, cold steel hard against hershoulders and ass. Shackles an inch thick hold her wrists and anklesto the execution table. The locks are slaved to her heartbeat; sheknows with one hundred percent certainty that she will not leave thistable alive.She stares in horror at the five men who stand before her. Physically,they are virtually identical: tall, strong, muscular. They are barechested. They wear skintight black leather pants and executioner’shoods. She remembers what the frightened young blondes in the holdingpen said. Apparently the executioners are chosen on the basis of twocriteria: their cruelty, and the size of their cocks.Each of the five men holds a different whip. There is the riding crop.There are the two floggers: one short and red and stingy, one long andblack and thuddy. There is the dreaded single tail. And there is theone she cannot think about. She remembers what the judge said:”Estella Warren, you have been found guilty of being a fertile humanfemale. The sentence is death. In addition, your crime features thespecial circumstance of extreme physical beauty. I therefore sentenceyou to be whipped to death in a procedure which shall last not lessthan two hours, video footage of which shall be edited for immediatebroadcast on state television.”Estella’s eyes are dry, but barely. The tears are near and she knowsit. She is stark naked, spread eagled. It is the most compromising,exploitative position she can imagine. Her pussy has been shaved andlubricated; it glistens under the studio lights, pink and perfect. Thecameras are everywhere: there are half a dozen she can see, andprobably more she can’t. They will drink down her death and beam itinto every living room in the nation. And when they hold thepopulation reduction plebiscite, it will pass with 98 percent support.She does not bother to beg, for there is no point: she has nothing tobargain with. The one thing she has to offer is free for the takingnow. And so she simply waits for them to come for her, which they do.They start slow. The flogger men go first, brushing her naked skinwith the soft falls of their whips as she squirms and struggles on thetable. After a few minutes of this they give her some strokes. Theyare surprisingly gentle at first, but she whimpers nonetheless, forshe knows that this represents a beginning. Gradually they build. Thestrokes fall heavier now. She feels kütahya escort the sting of the little redflogger, the deep wallop of the black one. The two sensations play offeach other. The men focus on her small, round breasts and on her firmthighs. She gasps as the twenty tails of the red flogger come downtogether, just next to her trembling bald cunt. The long black floggerstrokes the length of her breast, and one of its falls catches herstiff pink nipple. She howls, and knows that by doing so she hasguaranteed that this scene will find its way into the broadcast.The flogger men step aside, to make room for the crop and thebullwhip. Estella’s gorgeous body tenses on the table as the menapproach. The crop artist goes first, and he is not gentle. The stiffleather clapper falls on the tenderized meat of her tit, and she jumpsin response. He whips her hard and he whips her fast, raining thestrokes down onto her punished breasts as she writhes and screamsbeneath him. She feels the depths of his sadism through the crop. Thisman wants to hurt her, wants to see her suffer. She catches a glimpseof the bulge at the crotch of his tight leather pants. Yes, he wantsher to feel it.He crops her taut young thighs, always hitting the muscles just so,maximizing her pain. Then he returns to her breasts, harder now, hardenough to bruise. She howls. He moves down once more, to the thighsand then inward, sweet Jesus no–but yes, of course, he is croppingher cunt, striking the sweet tender lips with glorious abandon as thetears flow freely down Estella’s high, proud cheeks.She now receives ten lashes with the single tail. The bullwhip man isas precise as his comrades. Estella takes two on each rock-hardnipple, and nearly passes out from them. Then she takes two on herpussy, and does pass out from those–though just for a moment. Thewhip artist wakes her up with more breast strokes, going back andforth between her brightly glowing pink tits as she cries in agony.The flogger men move in again, and this time it is far worse, for nowthey are building on their previous work. Her breasts and thighs are abrilliant brutal pink, and her breasts are swollen. She has alreadygained half a cup size; her breasts look unnaturally large over hergaunt supermodel’s midriff. Her thighs and pussy are screaming fromthe abuse, and now the flogger tails fall down on her like a punishingrain, hitting her, escort kütahya hurting her. The flogger men lash her ruthlessly,and this time they do not confine themselves to her “safe” areas. Theywhip her belly too, and why not? They certainly don’t have to worryabout damaging her internal organs. Perhaps they even intend to do so.What was it that brainy college girl had said, in the pen? Somethingabout controlled k**ney damage? Estella can’t remember, exactly. Allshe knows is that it hurts terribly. She sobs like a little girl, andstill they keep hurting her.After the second flogger session they pause to **** her. The leatherpants come off, revealing massive purple cocks. She closes her eyesand tries to go limp as they come for her; she knows that fightingwill only make it much, much worse. But her body rebels instinctivelyas the first cock enters her. She may be spread and shackled. She mayhave forfeited all legal rights. But it is still ****, damn it, and itstill hurts. So she struggles, even though she knows that this onlymakes it better for him.Another man takes her mouth. She most certainly does not bite. Indeed,she does what she can for him, hoping to buy a little mercy with herwet, able tongue. He fucks her throat enthusiastically, and he is longenough to be dangerous: she cannot breathe on the down thrusts, andmust time her respiration very carefully.Two men stand on either side of her face and masturbate. The one whoholds the thing she cannot think about stands aloof. He is waiting.His time will come.Her cunt is tight, her mouth warm and quasi-willing. The sight of herslender body writhing in the throes of a double **** is enough to getthe other two men off. All four men come more or less together: theone in her pussy grunts and twitches, and the one in her mouth shootshis load down her gagging throat, and the other two finish themselvesoff Bukkake style, ejaculating all over her cheeks and lips.Humiliated, her face dripping with cum, she lays there and whimpers asthey return to the task at hand. The crop man is more wicked thanever; he places bruises atop bruises, and her muscles scream theirprotests. The single tail strikes with ruthless accuracy, slicing herflesh. It leaves long, angry red lines on her tortured tits andthighs. They are cutting her now.They flog her a bit more, but only a bit: the crop and the single tailare in charge now, as the torture builds. kütahya escort bayan They whip her until hernipples bleed. They whip her belly, and she feels something breakinside her. And then (dear Lord, no!) the crop artist spreads open thehood of her clit, exposing her sweet tender love button. He brings hisinstrument down hard, right on target, once, twice, a third time, andshe knows at last what hell is.They take her again, trading off, the two who masturbated before usingher throat and cunt this time. They are rougher now, more violent.They’ve had their pleasure already. This is about hurting her. The**** is savage; it lasts and lasts and lasts, immense cocks thrustinginto her broken bleeding body as she twists and suffers on the table.Once more they paint her with their come. Her face is drenched withit; she feels like a whore. She stares into the camera, sobbing, nolonger human, and she knows: it’s time to die.He comes for her at last, the fifth man, the one with…oh, dearGod…with the snuff flogger, the one made of stiff, razors-sharpwire. He brushes it gently against her ruined breasts, and sheexperiences what would have been an orgasm, if this were aboutpleasure.The flogger goes up and comes down, nine strands of wire slicing herbreasts like a loaf of bread. The cuts are deep and red; he’sbutchering her. The wires slash her other tit, opening it, revealingits essence. He cuts her belly. He cuts her thighs. The wire touchesher in a hundred places, and where it touches her, it leaves behind atelltale trail of scarlet.She gazes down at her devastated body. She is bleeding from a score ofwicked red wounds. Her lifesblood is pooling on the table. She is onher way. And so he sets down his whip and lowers his pants, revealingthe biggest cock she has seen yet. He enters her, hurting her terriblyas he does so. He begins to thrust, torturing her with his shaft. Hiscomrades approach with handfuls of salt, which they dutifully rub intothe shredded meat of her tits, into her deeply lacerated belly andthighs. She gurgles, drowning in pain. He grunts with delight as heragony peaks: they are rubbing salt deep into her naked meat, and soshe must clench her cunt tightly, massaging pleasure into him even ashe violates her.He can feel her dying. He fucks her hard, pulling out all the stops asher pain shades into death. She stares up at him, dark eyes full ofhorror, semen drizzling down her chin. Salt-covered hands work hertits, her hips. She moans softly as her blood pumps out onto thetable. Her cunt issues the special signal that means she is done; hehowls and comes into her. She stiffens and goes limp, her duty quitesuccessfully performed.

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