BDSM Library - Story: Execution of the Terrorist Housewives, Chapter: Part 3

Author's note: This story is completely fiction. Should any name used in this work be the same as that of a real person, it is pure coincidence.

A buzzer sounded and the automatic double doors began to open, exposing a darkened cavernous gymnasium with a very high ceiling and a smooth, level concrete floor. The Punishment Theatre was lit only in the center by overhead stage lights. Beyond the lights a shadowy gallery of nearly fifty witnesses sat in raised bleachers. The equal mix of neatly dressed men and women stared across the vast hall without expression. Once the entry doors had fully opened, the guards quickly hustled the three nude prisoners barefoot across the cold concrete floor, lining them up in front of the witnesses. As Sara, Tracy, and Diane stood completely naked facing the witnesses, their arms still bound tightly behind their backs, the slight shadowing effect of the overhead lighting highlighted the smooth vertical slits of their femininity, making it clear to the observers that the three females had recently been clean-shaven. Each of the three condemned females was now breathing heavy with anticipation, and each held a look of terror on her face.

With each quick deep breath that Diane inhaled in the chilly room, her double-D breasts heaved up and down, accentuated by her drawn-back arms. Her bare feet on the cold floor gave rise to fully erect nipples, highlighted by the shadowing effect of the overhead lights. Diane's full, hanging breasts and wider saddle-bag hips contrasted her with the trim, athletic figure of Sara, and the girlish figure of her own petite, somewhat flat-chested teenage daughter, both of whom stood naked next to her.

Warden Anne Bowden walked into the lighted area and stood just in front of the witnesses, facing the condemned females. Reading from a sheet of paper, she began to speak:

"Diane Howell, Tracy Howell, and Sara Stahler; each having been condemned by the High Court for multiple capital crimes, and each having been handed over to the Department of Punishment for execution of your sentence at this facility, and each having been prepared in a manner prescribed by the Department of Punishment, you shall each now begin to receive ten days of intense punitive punishment, followed by the execution of your final sentence."

Diane's bare chest heaves even harder as Warden Anne Bowden lifts her eyes from the page and looks directly at her. As she does, a faint electrical whirling sound echoes through the punishment chamber as two thin steel cables, about four feet apart from one another, descend from the ceiling in front of Diane.

"Diane Howell, we shall begin with your punishment. Mrs. Howell, you shall be suspended by your ankles in a four-foot-wide spreader bar while your arms remain firmly tied wrist-to-elbow behind your back. In this position a DOCP certified whipmaster will administer 40 strokes across your bare skin with a leather belt."

Tracy and Sara look on in horror and weep as the busty, somewhat full figured 42-year-old mother now hangs upside down by her ankles, her legs spread apart. With her arms tightly restrained behind her upper back, Diane's breasts push outward as her clean shaved pubic mound glistens prominently in the spotlight. Diane's straight brown hair now points to the floor as the cable length is adjusted downward so that her short-dropped hair now clears the floor by only inches. There is a sudden look of terror on her face as her upside-down eyes see a bare-chested, masked man approach her.

The black-hooded whipmaster walks intently toward the naked inverted female carrying a short, two-inch-wide leather strap. All eyes in the gallery are fixed on the whipmaster as he slowly draws back the brown belt-like instrument of punishment.

"No, please don't, just, just wait a minute, there's been a misund…"

Diane's plea for reason is instantly cut off by the nearly invisible forward flash of the whipmaster's forearm as a thunderous crack echoes through the chamber. With the first leather strap stroke landing diagonally across her bare bottom, Diane's full, wide butt-cheeks reflexively tighten as her quivering lips stoically hold back a scream, not wishing to appear in total submission in front of her 16-year-old daughter.

With the second stroke of the strap Diane agonizingly twists her full-figured, inverted buxom torso, reflexively flexing her thighs and knees, causing her butt to protrude and lift upward. Tears of both pain and shame fill to her eyes as her now agonizingly contorted face remains defiantly silent.

With the third loud crack of the strap across her bare butt, Diane Howell breaks into a horrifyingly deep, elongated, moaning cry which she is no longer able to hold back. As she cries aloud, now sounding like a little girl just stung by a dozen wasps, she reflexively bends her knees in a vain attempt to shield her bare bottom from the narrow belt-strap, only to be brought down once again by the weight of her own body. As stroke after methodical stroke raises red welts up across her broad, widespread butt cheeks, Diane vainly attempts to twist her torso into unobtainable positions to avoid the strap, her childlike "no…no" pleas interrupted by deep moaning cries which echo through the gymnasium-like chamber.

After about the twentieth hard belt stoke, the 42-year-old mom, convulsing in pain, mentally drifts back to some childhood nightmare. Her screams of "No, please, please no not the belt, no" are interrupted only by her gasps for breath.

After about the twenty-fifth stroke the whipmaster slows down his methodical pace, now allowing many seconds to pass between each strapping, as if to allow the witnesses to better hear Diane's deep, distressful sobbing without the interrupting snap of the strap.

At thirty strokes he pauses longer as Diane feels the hands of two guards, who now stand to each side of her, firmly brace each knees in its position. Although the exhausting weight Diane's own inverted 160-something-pound frame has now significantly diminished her futile ability to struggle, the experienced whipmaster knows that with the coming strokes she will surely will raise every ounce of energy to do so.

Still standing behind her, the whipmaster lays the next stroke of the strap soundly across Diane's baby-smooth pussy with aloud crack as Diane momentarily gasps silently for breath before bursting into a continuous rolling cry. As the strap crosses Diane's tender spread labia, a small jet of urine squirts up fountain-like from her urethra. Now held in position by the two guards, Diane's final ten strokes savagely tenderize her most intimate feminine area as the witnesses see her beautiful face contort into something found only in a nightmare.

As the final stroke of the strap snaps loudly across Diane's now-swollen pussy-lips, Warden Bowden steps into the spotlight. As Diane continues to sob childlike, still hanging from her ankles, the female Warden addresses the witnesses in a voice to be heard over the crying.

"Ladies and gentlemen, before we continue I need to make several brief announcements. First, DOCP regulations permit us to administer additional punitive punishments to noncompliant condemned prisoners. For this reason Mrs. Howell will receive a few more minutes of punishment before being taken down and moved from the theatre for medical care."

Diane, still deeply sobbing, does not hear the Warden's words, but Tracy bursts out

"Please, please leave my mother alone…please don't whip her anymore, mam…please."

With a cold staring glare toward Tracy, Warden Anne Bowden continues "I have just received notice from Dr. Wexler that the condemned female Mrs. Sarah Stahler did not pass her induction medical examination, and therefore cannot receive punitive punishment at this time." As Sara's mouth opens wide in shocking relief, the Warden motions for guards to remove her from the Punishment Theatre. As the beautiful blond 32-year-old wife and mother is led barefoot and naked from the theatre, Warden Bowden instructs the guards to take her immediately to the prison clinic and place her in a the custody of Dr. Wexler.

"We will now proceed with the initial punitive punishment of condemned prisoner Tracy Howell." As the thin stainless steel cables lower in front of Tracy, Warden Anne Bowden continues, recanting her mother's sentence. "Miss Howell, you shall now be suspended by your ankles in a spreader bar while your arms remain firmly tied wrist-to-elbow behind your back. In this position a Department of Corrections and Punishment Certified Whipmaster will administer 40 strokes across your bare skin with a short two- inch-wide leather strap."

As guards quickly lift the teenager's petite frame and suspend it facing the witnesses by the pre-attached ankle restraints, two female guards roll a small stainless steel cart up next to the still upside down hanging Diane Howell. As Tracy's cables are adjusted so that her long straight red hair falls just short of touching the floor, a female attendant firmly clamps battery-charger-cable type clamps to Diane's nipples. As the weight of the heavy, pinching clamps and their attached cables pull Diane's breasts toward the floor, the whipmaster takes his first stroke across her petite daughter's bare bottom.

Tracy's long red hair wildly dances as she flails about, her strong legs flexing her butt all the way up to the spreader bar after each of the first several strokes, widely spreading open her knees and pussy as she does. The teenager screams for her mother as the whipmaster expertly welts the hide of her smooth round butt.

As Tracy lets out a continuously rolling cry from the belt, a female attendant presses a button on the stainless steel cart and Diane's face convulses in screaming horror as the first of twenty short, sharp, electrical shocks alternatingly pass back and forth between her firmly pinched nipples at a rate of one every five seconds. As Diane screams with each quick electrical burst, she is oblivious to the severe leather belt strapping which her 16-year-old daughter is now receiving.

As Tracy's strapping continues, Diane is finally let down from suspension, her limp female form now placed on a gurney and wheeled out of the theater.

Tracy's tears soak her dangling long red hair as the final strokes of the strap are solidly cracked across her pert round bottom, her face contorted in terror-filled agony. As two male guards to each side of her firmly secure her knees from closing, the whipmaster now begins to extract her punishment from her widespread pussy. As her smooth shaven virgin vulva receives its unspeakable leather strapping, the 16-year-old can only scream and beg for her mother, unaware that she is gone, between her silent, gasping convulsions.

The Prison Clinic

Sara does not know how long she has slept. As she sits up on the edge of the bed and places her bare feet on the thinly carpeted floor she realizes that she is still completely naked but no longer in handcuffs. She gently rubs her wrists in a faint feeling of freedom. It is immediately obvious to her that she is no longer in a prison cell, but in a fairly comfortable hotel-room-like setting, except that there are no windows in the room. A nurse in a white uniform enters the room carrying a large plastic tray.

"Good morning Mrs. Stahler. Dr. Wexler wanted me to serve you a large breakfast just as soon as you awoke" the nurse said as she placed the tray on a small bistro table near the bed. "Once you're finished, he wants you to take a shower" the nurse says, pointing to the bathroom. "There are fresh towels in there, and also a clean set of underpants and a fresh prison uniform that you can put on when you're finished showering. Sorry, inmates don't usually get wear bras around here, something about the under wires, but at least it's better than stumbling about naked" she says with a smile, adding "oh, there's a pair of slippers in there too."

"Where am I" Sara meekly inquires to the nurse.

"This is Dr. Wexler's private in-house quarters where he stays when he's on call overnight. He doesn't use it much since he has a huge home on a big spread down in the canyon just a few miles from here, so occasionally he lets one of the inmates stay here if he feels they need some peace and quiet. The Punishment Facility Medical Clinic is the just outside these doors, but the beds there are set up as an open ward, and it can get a bit noisy and hectic. He thought you'd rest better in here. Once you're showered and dressed, he'll be in to speak with you."

As the warm shower water sprayed down across Sara Stahler's upturned face, she dreamed behind closed eyes an unimaginable fantasy of using her feminine powers to cast an unimaginable omnipotent spell.

To be continued in Part Four