Total Submission 11

His voice penetrated her consciousness asking her to beg for the removal of the roots, her stubborn determination said no but the pain said god yes, a minute or so past, it was just too much ...She begged... Sincerely and with feeling she begged.

A strong finger invaded her body removing the virginal root, the pain eased, he fished in her bowel with his forefinger, she lifting her knees to her chest to open herself for him it took a little probing but the task was soon done and to her relief he held it up to her eyes. A tiny insignificant, seemingly harmless piece of root he placed it on her tongue, she imagined it was covered in her shit, she expected to taste it, but like a magician he had swapped the pieces and all she could taste was ginger hot and spicey. The pain receded slowly, her toes returned to the ground to ease the pressure on her wrists. Her audience of Mike and Simon applauded, though she was not sure if it was for her, the performance or the executioner.

The tormenter appeared again telling her to spit out the ginger root, which she willingly did, he swatted at her backside with a leather strap, swinging her body round so she faced that slow moving clock. It read 11.10 her mind registered that there was still 35 minutes before she got a rest, perhaps 2 or 3 hours of this pain to endure, as another blow fell.

Regularly now blows rained down on her exposed lower half, each click if the clock preceded a blow landing, he struck like a metronome, precise swipes, click crack, click, crack, click, her mind strayed to the advert for safety belts clunk click, desperately she tried to think of other things than the pain to come, knowing the second hour was to be worse.

The clock said 11.40; he stopped striking her to change to a spiked tawse, tiny spikes projecting from a leather beater. He made sure she saw the cruel instrument, then concentrating on her backside he soon aerated it with tiny punctures, droplets of blood showing as the miniscule teeth did their worse, again each blow timed with that awful clicking clock , just four devastating strokes and the bell rang to say the first hour was over.

A small hose appeared and it was hooked into her mouth like a dentists mouthwash, water refreshing and cold ran into her dry mouth, she gulped some swilled more about her dry mouth and dribbled yet more down onto her bra. The thought that it was strange he had not removed that yet, crossed her mind.

The hose was removed, and she became conscious of Mike standing before her, he read the list of demises to her slowly commenting and allowing his words to sink into her brain.
“First there was impalement,” he explained that her whole weight would be suspended on a spike inserted in her anus and allowed to slowly penetrate her body till she passed over. He said “that took about three quarters of an hour.” It sounded as though he spoke from experience

The second method would be by dismemberment, winches tearing her limbs from her body while the executioner rode her to death. That he said “was quicker.”
The third would be to ride a wooden pony the back of which would in time split her in two from her saddle upwards. He told her that it was “a good hour's entertainment!”. She shuddered as he went on that “Fourth would be to be encased in an iron case her body impaled on spikes inside the case and the iron heated till it glowed. That “took a while but rendered the flesh edible.”

Another shudder passed through her body as he smiled. Fifth would be to be stood in an acid bath, and injected with the mixture. He had witnessed this and it had taken most of an afternoon for the woman to totally expire but the advantage was no body to dispose of. Finally and he said “he hoped she had chosen this as it was his favorite,” the insertion of a bladed phallus, and the removal of the breasts, the subsequent bleeding to death taking what he described as a “fair time”

He held the envelope in front of her to see it bore her signature just as she had signed it a fortnight before
He slit the thing open and held out the card, it said method no 3.
His words replayed in her head: he had described this death as “a good hour`s entertainment.” She knew whatever he alone would find “good entertainment” that was not what it would be for her.

She was lowered to the ground, muscles relaxing from their cramped positions, wrist painful now as the cuffs were removed.

The executioner called time, and play restarted prompt at twelve with the rubbing into the tiny wound on her arse a handful of salt, by two minutes past her backside had flared into a painful pincushion, her mind quickly left the worry of her demise and concentrated its energy on the pain of now. She was told to lie on the doctors table, the relief of not being suspended quickly vanishing as she was secured legs open on her back.

“We have a lot to cram in, so you had best expect the worse then you won't be disappointed” he smiled as he said it switching on an electric soldering iron to heat he reached for his whip. She knew what to expect, and she was not wrong, just as soon as that clock clicked so the stinging slash of the whip at full force smacked into her pubic mound. Another five followed each heralded as the clock clicked, each followed by a scream from the core of her very being. Never had her sex felt pain like this before.

He released her arms then reattached them above her head to a single chain above the bed. She sat legs wide pussy painful, wanting to hold the throbbing organ, her backside sore as he removed the shoulder straps from her bra.
He lifted the now hot iron and gently slid the hot tip down the black lacy cup of the right breast, the melting materiel burning itself to the soft flesh as the cup fell in two to the accompaniment of more screaming.

He tore the remaining remnant from her body; her breasts pale in the spotlight as he tweaked the nipples, then hefted the tender morsel to his hooded lips. He took the iron in his right hand then the left breast in his left hand cupping it tenderly in his palm. Then he swung the hot iron up and wrote his initials on her pale skin it was a callous, unfeeling act for which no emotion was shown. Her screams were loud and long, her body twisting in a pained arc the contortion continuing as he replaced the iron for the full stops.
He switched off the iron then held the breast up so she could read the neatly charred letters a `T’ and an `E’

He reached for her ankles and freed them, pushing her from the bed, she swung on the bindings of her wrists again, pain shooting through her wrist shoulders and arms, she swung crazily as he rolled the carcass chain along its rail, they stopped at a wooden bar opposite Mike and Simon , she could see them both, eyes eager for more, absorbing her pain like drugs to an addict, Simon no longer caring she was his partner, she was just as an object being tortured now and Mike almost slavering at her screams.

The breasts were positioned on the top of the bar, nails appeared and a hammer. The nail point positioned on the soft flesh, with a single stroke the first was struck down through the soft flesh. She jerked and screamed, a second into the other breast between those hideous initials, again unspeakable pain seared through the breast and to Mikes joy more screams.

He was not done, a electro pain machine was clipped to the nails, the power started low, a two second burst, burning effect through her chest, up the power, again, more screams, she was becoming hoarse, her head swinging now from side to side with the pain, up more she watched his hands turn the dial, another jolt another scream, her voice almost gone now, the pain immense. Please, please turn it right up and finish me she howled, her ears suddenly becoming aware of the bell, another hour had past.

They left her stooped, her breasts nailed to the bar while first Mike then Simon deposited a load apiece into her body, they each climaxed in seconds, having no regard for her at all.

The executioner though, he removed the nails, stood her up faced her, kissed her and almost tenderly took her against the doctors couch, she was unable to resist him, her body betraying her by climaxing as he did, hitting a new height, regardless of her burns cuts and piercing, bells rang in her head and her body orgasmed like a car on a roller coaster.

She knew he would soon kill her, it was his job, but at that moment she was on a higher plain, she was beyond care she was in love.

He withdrew his penis from her ravished body and stood for a few seconds regarding her from his hood, he turned and was about to move away when she croaked, “what are the initials for,” she wanted his name, the last man ever to have her. Without a word he re-secured her wrists with a rope to the chain and lifted her body.

Then from the shadows he fetched a wooden horse its legs body and head decorated and painted like a bizarre fairground piece taken off some fantastic roundabout, on its neck four scroll’s bearing three women's names and a blank.
On the back of the beast a razor sharp single edged curved blade the ends higher than the centre, she was lowered till just above that horrific saddle, care was taken to open her sexual lips and then she was lowered just with that terrible blade separating her vulva but not yet in full contact.

The Executioner looked deep into her eyes, his knife in hand, as quietly he whispered “Ted Edwards - the initials” with that she smiled, whispered thank you then nodded and he cut the rope.
She dropped that final fatal inch like a wet sandbag landing on a floor and she screamed a loud scream of perhaps shock as suddenly that blade did its first work, blood gushed from her crutch as the blade bit deep.
The pain strangely masked, perhaps even welcomed. Her final agony had begun!

Though now there was just an odd slicing effect as the soft tissue began to be steadily divided, the blade missing the clit itself and slicing the hood neatly if slowly in two she felt it go, blood trickling now down either leg, rivulets from the horses back.
Continuously groaning now she knew there was no going back. She in reaction jumped back shifting her weight, the bones of her backbone end felt the slicing blade the pain huge, she again rocked forward involuntarily, the blade sliced the clitoris this time, blood bursting from the tender vessel. Her rosebud she knew would never take another tool, as she passed out for just a moment or two

She came round her eyes wide, taking in the sight of her lover, Simon up in the glass office, watching, his face intently fixed on her as her life blood ran away a smile on his face, thoroughly enjoying her painful demise. Next to him Mike on his feet at the window tool in hand, behind the glass loving the whole spectacle, egging that blade silently on.

At her side, her executioner Ted, she whispered “how long” his reply cold and indifferent, that “she had been up just a few moments,” that the last occupant had lasted a full hour.
She rocked her body back to front and side to side as best she could in the hope to speed the blade deeper and to shorten her time.

He smiled, and quietly said “That will do no use girl, your hip bones will stop its gallop and you will bleed till the end whatever you do now.”
That blessed clock ticked away as her own weight slowly and finally tore its way into the organ that she had so long made her living from, no more would she bring joy to Alan, Steven, Jim or the others. Her mind reeling as she prayed for the end of her agony, knowing these ghouls and the paying six ere the last folk she would ever excite.

The camera man his hand held camera came closer, his lens in her face, pale now though the eyes still watching his every move. Then taking in her cuts, burns and punctures slowly it descending till it approached that terrible saddle. Taking in its depth in the precious meat as the blood still flowed down the painted flank of the bizarre animal. Her legs now hanging limp now, crimson drips splashing from the toes into the red puddles and dribbling down the waiting drains.

Her eyes began to dull they all knew the day was over.
The clock ticked and the time read.