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A Drowning

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Sep 23, 2012
I Don`t Know Who Made This Set
There Are No Markings On It


Sep 23, 2012
Last Lot



Aug 24, 2013
This is what those renders inspired...

It wasn’t much of a trial, if you could even call it that. Dorothy was taken to the town square and accused of being a witch. The matrons wanted her gone because they were afraid she would corrupt their menfolk, and were thus the loudest in proclaiming her guilt.

In the end she was summarily convicted of being a witch by the council and was sentenced to be drowned posthaste. The matrons rushed forward and ripped her garment to shreds, exposing her nudity as they called her names. The guys got quite an eyeful before they were shooed away by the cackling hens.

Her arms were tied behind her back and her legs were secured at the ankles. Then Brutus was sent for as he was the one who usually handled these things. He arrived with his cart, hoisted her onto the back and then hauled her out of the village.

She was taken to the large pond several miles out of town. Brutus pulled his cart up to the stone bridge where he planned on disposing of her. Then he went around back to fetch the condemned lass.

He sat her upright, admiring the doomed woman. She protested her innocence. “I’m not a witch and you know it.”

“I’m not the one to appeal your sentence,” he told her gruffly.

He grabbed her and started to pull her out of the cart. “But I’m not a witch, I tell you! Those birds are afraid I’ll corrupt their husbands!”

“As I’m sure you would,” he replied with a smile.

He stood her up on the cobblestone path and turned her around. He bent her over the back of the cart. Then he removed his tunic before opening his fly.

“What are you doing?” she called out anxiously.

“Taking my pay from the condemned, you witch.” Then she gasped as he thrust into her.

She felt a warmth blossom within her as he thrust in and out. It was embarrassing being taken like this where anyone could ride by and see them. But perhaps she’d best enjoy it, being as how it was liable to be the last time she ever felt a man’s hard member deep inside her.

“Arrrrgh!” he gasped as he thrust harder. “You are indeed a witch! You have vexed me with your bosoms and your womanhood!”

She panted for breath as he thrust harder and faster. It felt wonderful… shamefully wonderful. She could feel it welling up inside her, that release she usually experienced whenever a man was thrusting into her being.

He roared his release a she felt the warmth of his seed inside her. She was almost there when he pulled out. She wanted to cry out, “NO; NOT YET!” But it was too late.

He pulled out and tucked his manhood back inside the flap to his trousers. Then he picked her up and carried her over to the side of the bridge. Dorothy gasped in alarm as his seed trickled out of her womanhood down her inner thighs.

He stood her on the edge of the bridge. She gasped as she balanced unsteadily, perched precariously as she faced him. She was still regretting not being allowed to enjoy that last release. But now she felt an even bigger one approaching.

“Well, witch. This is where we part ways.”

“But I tell you I’m not a witch!”

“What concern is it of mine? You’ve been found guilty by the town council.”

“The town council is influenced by your ladyfolk! They are not men; they are boys ruled by their cocks!”

“It is not my place to decide such matters. Now you must die, witch.”

“No! Please! You can have me every day if you would spare my life!”

“I would if I was much bolder. But alas, I am not.” Then he pushed her in her chest.

She screamed as she went over backward off the bridge. That is when she finally achieved that release she craved, although it came with no man’s member inside her. He stepped forward to watch her descent.

She plummeted backward into the water below, hitting with a large splash. The pond was cold, causing her to gasp sharply. Dorothy reflexively inhaled water as she sank to the bottom.

She started thrashing about, painfully sucking water as she started to drown. She looked up to see Brutus looking down on her. Apparently he was watching to make sure the deed was done and that she did not slip her bonds and rise to the surface.

Dorothy glubbed bubbles as a pain blossomed in her chest. It was an agonizing ache, one that could not be diminished. She thrashed about as she settled upon the bottom of the pond, her nipples hard and her crotch spewing her arousal.

She shuddered hard before all movement ceased. She stared upward in shock, her mouth gaping open. A few stray bubbles escaped her flooded lungs to scurry to the surface.

Brutus looked down to see the witch was not moving. He could no longer see any bubbles coming up to the surface. Didn’t that mean they were not a witch if they drowned? He decided it was none of his concern.

He walked back to his cart and climbed on. He slapped the horse’s back with the reins, setting the beast to moving. But he could not help thinking about the witch at the bottom of the pond.

It was a damned shame. She had pleasured him well. It was too bad she had to be drowned like that…

© 2017 (written for Dorothy Apr 16 ’17 by riwa)

(Renders found by Dorothy and used for illustration purposes.)

old slave

Dec 16, 2014
The windy Pennines, England
Didn’t that mean they were not a witch if they drowned? He decided it was none of his concern.
The more he thought about it, the more he was sure he was correct. Still, nothing to be done now.

She had pleasured him well.
So, all in all, it wasn't a bad day.


Sep 15, 2012

I have a modern, more humane version.

Strip her naked, cuff her hands behind her back, then shackle her ankles to a pit shallow enough so that her torso is at knee height, her face at crotch height.

Surround her with other hot naked women, each of which is given a large bottle of water laced with pheromone.

Have all these other hot naked women piss and cum all over her.

If she reacts by smiling and shouting "Yes! Gimme MORE!", tell her "You're MY kind of witch!"


Aug 24, 2013
I thought I might use this thread to upload the occasional drowning picture or story. And here is a story I finished last night, inspired by the pictures I included.

The Party Crasher

I’d heard about that blonde bimbo of course. She was having a meteoric rise in Hollywood. No matter where I turned, I saw her pictures splattered everywhere.

Maybe I shouldn’t have taken it so personally. After all, I was working on my own Hollywood career. But she was appearing everywhere to get extra publicity. And now she’d crashed my party with Clifton Webb for our movie Boy on a Dolphin.

Of course I knew about the way she’d crashed Howard Hughes’ press junket for his movie Underwater! back in ’55. She dove into the pool with all those reporters snapping pictures and came back up without her top. Oh, she claimed it was an accident. But those in the know were certain she’d rigged it to fall off for the publicity.

That day was supposed to be for Jane Russell, the star of Hughes picture. But by the time she came out in her one-piece, all the reporters had run out of film after snapping pics of that blonde bimbo. That bitch Mansfield had stolen her spotlight. And now she was here at my dinner party!

I tried to be nice about the whole thing. But the photographers swarmed us the moment she came over to my table. She was happy and bubbly, showing off her boobs which were virtually hanging out. No wonder they kept snapping pictures of her.
Can you believe it? The bitch took a seat between me and Clifton. She was all over him, hoping he didn’t mind her crashing his party and how she was oh-so-grateful just to be in our company. It was really starting to make me sick.

I couldn’t help looking at her boobs. After all, they were right there staring at me. Hell, I thought they were going to spill out onto my plate! I didn’t know what the hell to do!
She started gushing about some of the movies she was in and how nice of a town Hollywood was while giving Clifton an approving eye. Underneath I was steaming. When a few more photographers snapped a couple of pictures of her - and they were taking pics of her, mind you, and not me since I’d become a mere accessory at that damned table – I’d finally had enough.

I whispered into her ear, “Can I talk to you for a minute? I know a producer who might be interested in you.”

“Really?” Oh, that bimbo was happy to think her presence might have given her another opportunity to further her career.

We stood up together and headed toward the back of the establishment. A couple photographers got up to follow us. “Really gentlemen,” I scolded. “Can’t us girls use the ladies room without a flashbulb snapping off in our faces?” They both apologized, and we left them behind.

I steered us past the ladies room and out the back door. There was the faintest hint of a chill in the air out there on the patio by the pool. But I hadn’t brought my wrap because this wasn’t going to take long.

“So who’s this producer you know?” she asked. She looked rather dubiously at me, perhaps wondering why I was being so nice to her.

“It was a ruse to get you out of there,” I told her. “In fact that’s exactly what I want from you right now… to get you out of here. Why don’t you go back to where you came from? This is a private party.”

“A private party? I didn’t know it was a private party!”

“Don’t get cute with me, honey. I know all about the way you crash parties for publicity. And you’re not crashing mine.”

“You got me all wrong, Sofie.”

“It’s Sofia…”

“I just came to be nice and to pay my respects to Clifton, ‘Sofia’.” She spat my corrected name out none too kindly.

“And you’ve got all the photographers snapping pictures of your boobs. Did you know the ‘twins’ are about to come out of there?”

“The ‘twins’ are just fine,” she shot back. “And look who’s talking!” she added as she pointed at my chest. “All you’re trying to do is get yourself some extra publicity!”

“That’s because it’s my movie, you bitch! I don’t need no blonde bimbo cutting into my time with the press.”

“That’s just fine coming from an Italian tramp like you!”

“You bitch!” and I lunged at her.

I grabbed her and pushed her backwards into the pool. We hit the water with a splash and went right under. The water was cool, but I was all heated up in anger.

She came up sputtering… “You Italian BITCH!” Then she pushed me under. I lost a flurry of bubbles as I pushed her away and shot back up to the surface.

“I can’t believe you pushed me into the pool!”

“And I can’t believe you crashed my party, you blonde bitch!” And with that we grappled with each other.

I twisted her under the water, having developed some breath-holding skills from my work on my recent movie. Seeing her bubble was extremely satisfying. Then she kneed me in the groin, getting me to lose my grip as she shot back up to the surface.

“You Italian tramp! You’re going to pay for that!” Then she charged me, pushing me under and forcing me downward.

I twisted out of her grip, and we wrestled for a bit, spinning around and around and spewing bubbles. By then the ‘twins’ had come out as her dress simply wasn’t much of a swimsuit. Seeing them staring at me like that only enraged me more.

She pushed me away and shot up to the surface again. I headed up after her, wrapping my arms around her legs and pulling her under. I heard a satisfying gasp for breath before she spewed a lot of bubbles.

Her dress was coming apart at the seams… and I decided to encourage the process. I pulled and tugged until more of it came away. That’s when she struck back, ripping my top down and breaking my little straps to my black outfit.

Her dress became sheer in the water as we fought and bubbled. There wasn’t much light in the water. But I could see just fine… enough to want to drown the party-crashing bimbo.

I had just popped up for a much needed breath when she wrapped her thighs around me and got me in a head-lock. She forced me down until I started bubbling. The crazy bitch was actually trying to drown me!

I screamed my breath away in fury as I struggled to break out of her grasp. I worked myself loose and popped up for breath, panting like crazy. I was dimly aware of a couple flashbulbs going off before I wrapped her up in my arms and drove her toward the bottom.

We bubbled as we wrestled against each other. I had her boobs pressed up against my chest. It disgusted me… and yet I’ll admit this only to you that I did feel a little aroused.

She twisted out of my grasp and shot back up to the surface. More flashbulbs went off, indicating we’d attracted a crowd. That’s when I realized there was more of me showing than I wanted to show at Clifton’s dinner party.

There were several standing along the side of the pool as we caught our breath. I bellowed out, “BLONDE BIMBO!” while she responded with “YOU ITALIAN TRAMP!” Then I charged her again.

We were up at the surface long enough for me to overhear… “Shouldn’t we split them up?” “What… and spoil a good catfight in the water??” Then I had her in a headlock as I kicked her down toward the bottom of the pool.

She twisted out of my grasp and kneed me in the groin again. That really pissed me off. So I wrapped her up in a big bear hug chest to chest as I kicked us both to the bottom of the pool.

I could feel her erect nipples pressing up against mine as she struggled in my grasp. She was bubbling and crying out as her lungs heaved. I was out of breath as well, but my mind was in a fog of fury and I wasn’t thinking straight.

I kicked us all the way to the bottom where she tried to shake me. But this time I wasn’t about to let go. When we hit the bottom she glugged as she gulped down a big mouthful of water.

My lungs were on fire, but I was still pissed off. In my mind it was better to drown the both of us than to allow this gate-crasher to get away with the stunt she’d pulled. The training I got on that movie helped me to hold my breath and stay down a few moments longer.

The bitch looked up at me in horror as she hitched and gurgled. It was so satisfying seeing her suck water. The way her boobs shook as she spasmed and convulsed made me struggle to hold my breath a few seconds longer to watch just to make sure she really drowned.

She was coughing and doubling over when I lost the ability to hold my breath. I swallowed water and went into a panic as I started gulping and convulsing. I’d stayed down too long.

I was drowning right there with her; our dresses shredded, our boobs exposed, and our bodies nearly naked. It occurred to me just how stupid I’d been trying to drown the blonde bimbo. Dying was going to cost me my career in Hollywood.

I was still hitching and coughing up bubbles when I felt arms wrap under my shoulders and haul me back up. When I reached the surface I thought I heard some guy yell, “SOMEBODY HELP ME; SHE’S DROWNING! SOMEBODY GO DOWN AND GET JANE!” I heard another splash as I was dragged over to the side of the pool, coughing and puking my guts out.

I could just make out some photographer hauling that blonde bimbo up from the bottom of the pool. Her eyes were glazed over and she wasn’t moving. At that moment I did feel a little bit sorry.

They got her out of the water and laid her out where a couple of guys started doing CPR and giving her mouth to mouth. I figured they had to be happy they were getting to lock lips with her, even if it was to save her worthless life. Then she coughed up a lungful of water as she started to come around.

I didn’t know whether to feel angry or relieved. But at least I’d taught her not to mess with an ‘Italian tramp’ anytime in the near future. And the publicity we were both going to receive after this night was probably going to be priceless…

(Nov 27 ’17)

(Pictures found on the Internet and used for illustration purposes only.)
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