Stuff Happen's After Messaline's Plans Go Awry...

[thehangingtree]

It was a day and a half after I had taken Messaline’s lifeless body from her cross. Of all the women I have ever crucified she had the most legitimate sounding charges against her. But it didn’t take a genius to figure out she had been set up. A few searches on the web found that Brian’s companies and Messa’s mother’s companies were completely intertwined, and I'd guess the same could be said for Brian and Brigitte. That, coupled with the fact that Messa’s father in the peak of health was found dead in their estate’s pool with no obvious cause of death told me I had just killed an innocent girl, barely 22 years old. I was fucking pissed at myself and swore I would not do an execution again. I was sitting on my deck when the phone rang.

“Tree… M-hmm… Yes… Fuck, yes, I will.”

It was the IMF. They wanted me to handle the execution of Messaline’s mother, the jurist, and the captain. I’d be more than happy to. I drank a lot that night….

tht

 

[thehangingtree]

Things began to happen fast in the days after Messaline died on the cross. Darlene, Brian’s personal assistant had engineered the mother of all double crosses with the help of Mr. Wu. The Jurist, Martha that was part of the triumvirate that had condemned Messa to death on the cross was arrested by the IMF along with the captain, Janet. The charges included Deviant Sexual Activity for their trysts with each other, dereliction of duty for the same acts, and knowingly providing comfort to a condemned prisoner. That was for Janet’s cunnilingus performed on Messa while she hung from the cross and Martha not stopping her.


tree

 

[thehangingtree]

Brigitte was arrested before she could board her plane to go back to France on charges of deviant sexual misconduct and adultery.

All three were tried, convicted, and condemned to death on the cross after two months of hard labor at the O.P.P. without appearing in court. They were only brought to court to be read their sentences. The women each reacted to their convictions differently. Martha, The IMA jurist seemed resigned to the idea she screwed up and was caught in the act. Janet was more thrilled than frightened that she would experience the horrors of Messaline’s crucifixion and wondered what wondrous tortures awaited her that could be worth waiting two months to be crucified. Brigitte was panicked and screaming like a caged wild animal, demanding to see the French consulate and spewing indignations that they would even consider doing such a thing to a woman of her stature.

The IMA court was not amused by Brigitte’s outbursts and had her stripped and tagged at her sentencing. As she was led to her holding cell, someone took a picture of her with a camera phone.

It was a bit blurred and the color was off but it’s impossible to miss the stunning resemblance of Brigitte and her daughter Messaline...

T

 

[thehangingtree]

Once Brigitte’s photo hit the web the paparazzi would be out in force to see Janet, Martha, and Brigitte being transferred to the O.P.P. in Midwestern America. As they were led chained through the phalanx of photographers the local authorities made only minimal efforts to keep the throngs of people from groping the condemned helpless women. Brigitte was mortified being paraded naked through the walls of paparazzi. Martha seemed almost detached, while Janet struggled to hide her thrill of being the subject of such a spectacle.

tree

 

[thehangingtree]

The women were taken to the Midwest by a private prisoner transfer company in a small commuter turboprop. The crew was not paid particularly well but enjoyed the benefits of having three naked chained women in their custody for the fourteen hours of the three hop flight. The plane parked near an airfreight hanger and the women were taken off. They stood on the tarmac with their feet burning on the hot concrete. The freight master and the plane’s captain were having a discussion that was as hot as the women’s feet. The freight master said he could not accept live freight if the shipper wasn’t there to accept it. The captain argued he had other prisoners he had to deliver (they enjoyed their ‘conjugal visit’ with the ladies also) and had to leave.

The whole time the discussion was going on the three women stood naked but for their chains on the tarmac for the world to see. A black box van pulled up and two men climbed out. The driver apologized about being late, explain the rush hour traffic held them up. He looked over at the three chained women and said “Well, I guess that’s my cargo.”

The plane’s captain took the chains off the women one by one. They were led to the back of the van where they were laid face down on the steel floor. Shackles and manacles joined by a single steel ring locked them hogtied on floor. Janet and Martha went without resistance but Brigitte was still screaming about being a French citizen and she had rights to see a consulate. In the middle of five square miles of concrete, asphalt and mowed grass the stark naked Brigitte decides to make a run for it when her chains and collar are removed. She didn’t make it thirty feet before the O.P.P. men caught her and wailed on her with sand-filled rubber hoses. It wasn’t long before she was lying on the hot steel floor with Janet and Martha and the van was headed to the O.P.P. The ride to the O.P.P. would take more than hour. The cargo area was hot and lit in an odd green tint as sun poured through the translucent fiberglass roof.


Halfway there Martha was fed up with Brigitte’s moaning about her rights. She angrily scolded “The IMF is not the US government. It’s called the Imperial Moral Force for a reason. So your consulate is not going to help you. Besides I’m sure you daughter was a French citizen. I didn’t hear you demanded the consulate when she was sentenced to death.”

That shut Brigitte up, at least until they got to the O. P. P. Brigitte looked at her fellow convicts as the van drove up the gravel drive. She declared “I am not going to do hard labor. What are they going to do to me; kill me?”
T

 

[thehangingtree]

Martha looked over at Brigitte and said “They can be more persuasive than that.”

“I’m pretty strong willed myself” Brigitte replied.

Janet shook her head and said “You won’t be when they are done…”

“What are they going to do to me; kill me?” Brigitte had asked Janet. As they were pulled from the box van women dressed as nuns and men as priests and brothers surround the women. Janet thought “of course they will. I just hope it’s not too soon.”


The neck collar and the heavy chains that bound the three women’s wrist behind their backs were placed on their bodies again. Brigitte was wild with fear as she was led into the O.P.P. building. She was back to her demands of talking to the French consulate. Martha seemed resigned as she was led into the building. Janet stood surrounded by three of the priests with a sister pinning her elbows behind her back. She smelled the sweat and alcohol and, damn, yes, the nun was wearing perfume. In a low whisper she said “I’m yours to do with me what you want.”

“Oh, honey, we don’t need your permission for that” the sister purred. Janet suppressed the smile and thought ‘this is worth dying for.’ Janet smile within. It was not that she wanted her life to be over but the journey to that end thrilled her. She had no idea what the next months would bring but was sure the intensity would be greater than her job with the IMF. She grunted and rocked her hips when one of the priests slipped his finger into her hot wet cunt. He snarled “The bitch is wet. Are you looking forward to your visit with us, cunt?”

‘More than you can image’ Janet thought…

T

 

[thehangingtree]

Brigitte was the first through ‘Orientation, Induction, and Incarceration.” She could not believe the nun would fondle her sex as she had. And what kind of nun would wear the shoes that this one did? ‘I have to put up with whatever they want for two months so they can kill me’ Brigitte thought. ‘I’ll play along tomorrow to see what it is like…”

tree

 

[thehangingtree]

The Jurist Martha was brought in next and like Brigitte she was thoroughly searched to insure she wasn’t bringing in any ‘contraband’. It didn’t matter she had been in IMF custody for more than a week by then. She was bound on a rig and ‘cavity searched’ by a strangest undressed dressed nun. As the nun’s hand probed her rectum a man walked behind the nun and admonished “Sister, you take too much joy in your work.”

“Then I will report to your vespers to be adequately disciplined when I am done with this one and Janet…”

T

 

[thehangingtree]

Mid-April at the O.P.P. had brisk mornings but comfortable afternoons. After a bland breakfast of barely edible oatmeal and water Martha, Janet, and Brigitte were taken from their cells and one by one they were taken to the blacksmith where shackles were fixed around their ankles. Brigitte was uncharacteristically submissive while the huge man forged the iron around her ankles. Martha was her stoic self. Janet almost had an orgasm while she hoisted each foot up to the anvil to have the shackles fixed around her ankles. She looked down at the shackles and heavy chain and thought how wonderfully they complemented the tag hanging from her cunt that declared she was a dead woman walking.

THT

 

[Eulalia]

a bland breakfast of barely edible oatmeal and water a bland breakfast of barely edible oatmeal and water

​

This slavegirl is very content with oatmeal + water, aka porridge,​

rather that than cornflakes any day!​

​

 

[thehangingtree]

​

This slavegirl is very content with oatmeal + water, aka porridge,​

rather that than cornflakes any day!​

​

....This is really bad dry oatmeal, but it does keep the tummy full and the slave bard fit for hard labor...

T

 

[thehangingtree]

They had worn striped dresses that had maybe never been washed when they were led from the blacksmith’s shop. They walked about a half mile when they came upon a row of women dressed as they were standing in a line. When they got closer they found the women were lined up along a heavy chain that made the ones between their ankles seem small. They were pushed into line and then a man with a shirt and trousers walked down the row inspecting his charges. He had a holstered pistol strapped to his belt. Janet glanced down the row and noted besides Martha, Brigitte, herself none of the other women were older than college age. The man stopped near them and addressed the row of women.

“As you can see we have three new helpers here today. Don’t think you can slack off. I expect to get more done with them joining you” he announces. “OK, ladies you know the routine; strip!”

The college-age women peel off their dresses quickly and Janet and Martha do so a bit slower, surprised by the order. Brigitte at first doesn’t make a move to pull hers off. He looks at her and scowls “I do not give orders twice.”

She slowly pulls the dress from her body. The man smiles and says “I see we have three condemned cunts joining our line today. Girls, show them what I expect or one of you might join them.”


Someone with an old camera took a picture of the new arrivals as they stripped. The girl on your right was complaining to herself that it was going to be a bad day with the overseer going to make sure the new bitches understood what he wanted. The girl on the left looked at the photographer and prayed her naked body didn’t make it to the web. A second overseer locked their shackles to the long chain and the women were marched another half mile to a stone wall that stone by stone they would disassemble.
Tree

 

[thehangingtree]

Of course the woman was right. No matter how hard they worked the overseers had the women flogged harder, except for the slowest worker of the group, Brigitte. At the end of the day, instead of being placed in their cells, the lot of them was placed in a cement-walled room. The ceiling was low enough the taller women could not stand up straight. The guard had to push hard on the steel door to squeeze all the women in before he could lock them in. The women were packed like sardines in the hot dark room that stank of excrement.


Brigitte asked “What the hell is going on?”

“I’ll tell you, bitch. We’re going to spend the night in the shitter because of you!” the black girl screamed. Brigitte shook her head and said “I don’t understand.”

“Look, lady, we’re here on detention from the convent. We do our time we go back to the convent. I don’t know what you’re here for but until you toe the line we’ll spend every night here. Here’s how it works. Today we tore down the wall. Tomorrow we’ll move the rocks about ten feet. The day after that, we’ll build a new wall. Then the day after that we’ll tear it down.”

“I don’t get it” Brigitte said. “What’s the point of it?”

“There is no point, Brigitte” Martha hissed. “We were sentenced to two months hard labor. That is hard labor.”

“Well I’ll be damned if they thing I’m going to do this for two months and then get crucified. I am not going to do it!” Brigitte declared. In the darkness one of the women wraps her arm around Brigitte’s neck. She whispers angrily in her ear “Listen, bitch, by the time you spend a night in here you will be begging to move rocks. And you better remember they hear and see everything.”

Then the woman released the strong hold she had on Brigitte’s neck. She whispered “It’s about to start. Keep your head down and mouth shut.”

Brigitte wasn’t good at following directions and looked up into the darkness as she heard a hiss surround the room. Suddenly a stench-filled spray hit her from above. She screamed “What is happening?”

“Keep your head down and shut up! We’re in the aeration chamber of a septic system. You’re getting your first piss and shit shower…”

The women in the tank had no idea of the time. It was pitch dark in the tank and the only outside sound they could hear was the pump. Even Brigitte learned to lower her head. After the fifth time the pump stopped the women stood breast deep in human waste with their hair matted to their flesh with the same. The closest experience Brigitte had this was a golden shower, and she was the one giving it. The pump started again and she screamed “They’re going to drown us in this!”

“We should be so lucky” Martha said as she lowered her head…
tree

 

[Eulalia]

and you say my imagination's crueller than yours, Tree? ​

 

[admihoek]

....This is really bad dry oatmeal, but it does keep the tummy full and the slave bard fit for hard labor...

T

very hard

 

[admihoek]

and you say my imagination's crueller than yours, Tree? ​

 

[messaline]

Hum! Tree is Tree, enjoy or get away! Nobody will alter him, and it's well

 

[thehangingtree]

and you say my imagination's crueller than yours, Tree? ​

Are you referring to the oatmeal still or...

T

 

[thehangingtree]

Instead of another blast of waste it was a fine spray of hot water. The water and waste mixed to raise the level in the tank until the shortest woman had to stand on her toes to keep her mouth and nose above the fowl mixture. Somewhere below their feet there was a hiss and the tank began to drain. Someone said in the darkness “Girls, I think we go back to work.”

It took an hour to drain the chamber. The process was slowed by the nozzles spraying the hot water above and onto the women. When the door finally opened they were hot and exhausted. One of the overseers ordered them out and asked which one of them was Brigitte. He ordered her to the right side of the door and the rest to the left. All the women’s shackles were locked to the heavy chain that awaited them. One of the women glared at Brigitte and mouthed “You bitch.”

“Ladies you still stink like shit” another overseer said as he turned the ballcock on the hose and blasted them with cold water fresh from the deep well. When he finished with the women of the chain gang he turned the hose on Brigitte. The force knocked her off her feet and he stepped up to her and relentlessly blasted her with the hose. When he shut it off he turned to the women chained together and said “It took a little longer to drain the tank so this lazy cunt cost you breakfast, not to mention you get to haul the big chain the whole mile to the work site. Plus Mother Superior wants to see her so you’ll have to make up for being one short. You remember that while she’s having breakfast with the sister.”


While the other women were marched to the wall, Brigitte was bound and ‘bathed’ by two of the nuns prior to her meeting with Mother Superior.

tree

 

[thehangingtree]

She was then led into the dining room where the nuns ate a bland breakfast of dry grits and warm water. She was the only one naked in the room. The nuns ate their breakfast in silence except for Mother Superior. She ate nothing and stared silently at Brigitte. Brigitte wondered what was going on but dared not speak. When the nuns finished they stood and took their bowls and water glasses to a tray on a stainless steel cart. Then they lined up along the long table across from where Brigitte sat.

With her elbows and wrists bound behind her back Brigitte was acutely aware her breasts were thrust up and out. She looked down the row of nuns and found more than a couple of them had more than a passing interest in her body. She looked down at her erect nipples and realized she felt the same to more than a few of the nuns, longing to have her hands free so she could peel the habits from their bodies and enjoy what was hidden underneath as she had done so often with the sisters at the ‘finishing’ school her father had sent her to after high school. Brigitte looked up and gasped when she found Mother Superior had silently sat done next to her.

Mother Superior was different from any nun she had known in France. She wore subtle eye make-up that accented her cold grey eyes and gloss that highlighted her full lips. Her fingernails were painted to match her lips and manicured perfectly. The scent of her lilac body wash was almost intoxicating to Brigitte. The two women were both in their early forties but neither would have trouble seducing a young stud half their age. Brigitte thought in another circumstance she could picture a most delightful evening in bed with this nun.

The thought was broken when a plate was passed between the two women and set on the table in front of Mother Superior. Brigitte looked hungrily down at the perfectly prepared eggs benedict. Then she saw a second plate placed before her with the same perfectly dish. She looked up at the woman that had placed it there and found a young face devoid of make-up surrounded by a white veil and matching habit. Her face was beautiful but there was a distance in her eyes. Brigitte thought ‘She can’t be older than Messaline… was.’

An aromatic French blend of coffee was served in fine china cups on saucers. Crystal goblets with iced water and orange juice were placed by the two plates and finally polished sterling silver flatware was arranged on both sides of the plates. Brigitte looked down at her plate and felt the ropes binding her arms. Was it a cruel tease, she wondered and almost leaned forward to bury her face in her plate. Before she could Mother Superior said “Kelly will feed you” and the girl in the white habit knelt on the terrazzo floor and began to do just that.

In a soft but stern voice Mother Superior said “I am usually not this patient with new arrivals. However with the recent execution of your daughter and your own conviction and condemnation to death by crucifixion I have prayed that I might help you through this hardship you face.”

“Hardship? I’m going to be killed!”

“Brigitte, you will keep your voice down and treat me with respect as I am treating you” Mother Superior demanded. It was a command Brigitte felt would be wise to heed. Kelly fed her a bite of the eggs benedict. Brigitte closed her eyes and savored the best food she had tasted since Messaline died on the cross. Mother Superior continued. “You may address me as ‘Mother Superior’ or ‘Ma’am’. You will be free to talk after I finish and you may ask any question within reason. It is obvious during orientation you did not understand when you were told you will obey every order you are given. The overseer reported you were slow to strip and slow to work. Is there a reason for that, Brigitte?”

Brigitte took a deep breath and avoided the urge to shout at Mother Superior. Meekly she said “I do not understand why I was sentenced to hard labor, much less death. I am not a member of the IMF like Janet and Martha. And I do not see the point of building a wall one day, tearing it down the next, moving it, and then building it again… Ma’am.”

“I see” Mother Superior replied. “First off (she paused to take a bite of her eggs benedict) we do not set your sentence. However, Brigitte, I have some latitude with the IMF. I will call them today and ask them to suspend the hard labor. If you want to stand around and do nothing I can accommodate you today. If they don’t agree you will do hard labor or the women of the chain gang will spend every night in the box without food. Remember, there are consequences to your actions.”

“Mother Superior, if you would discuss my sentence with the IMF I would be most grateful” Brigitte replied. Mother Superior nodded and whispered something to another nun. She quickly left the dining room and almost a fast returned carrying a leather pouch. It made a dull thud when it landed on the table and metal objects rattled against each other inside. The nun pulled out a hammer and a chisel and said “Brigitte, turn and face me.”

Brigitte turned on the stool wondering what was to come next. She was surprised when the nun placed the chisel against the head of the rivet that locked the shackle around her ankle. She repeated it on the other foot and slipped the shackles from Brigitte’s legs. She gave Brigitte a cold stare then said “Novitiate, come stand before me.”

Kelly rose from her knees and stood before the still kneeling nun. Her eyes were pleading as she knew what was next.

“Strip” Mother ordered.

“Oh, Mother Superior, please…”

“Shut up, Kelly, and do as you are told, NOW” mother barked.

With her face flush and tears streaming down her face, the young woman lifted up an pulled the white habit off over her head, her simple veil falling off as she did. She crossed one arm across her breasts and covered her wispy pubic hairs with her other hand. Mother placed the shackles around her ankles. Without looking up she knowingly said softly “Clasp your hands behind you’re your back, Kelly. There is no reason to be ashamed of your body.”

Two bolts where slipped through the shackles. While she spun nuts onto the threads a bewildered Brigitte ask what was going on. Another nun knelt by Kelly’s feet and tightened the nuts with a pair of wrenches. Mother stood up and pulled Brigitte to her feet. In mock kindness she said “I told you if you wanted to do nothing today I would accommodate you. However that leaves me a penitent short on the wall. Novitiate Kelly will fill in for you.”

“But that is not…”

“Silence, Brigitte, your permission to speak is revoked!”

Kelly was led outside and up on a short platform where she stood between two tall posts with a heavy beam between them and a rope dangling from a pulley above. A man in a monk robe tied the rope around Kelly’s wrists while a second pulled a wicked whip through the palm of his hand. Once Kelly was bound the monk pulled the other end of the rope slowly rising Kelly’s hands until they were above her head. She looked down at Brigitte with eyes that blazed with anger.

“You see, the other women have been working for over three hours now and I do not want to plant seeds of envy in the poor novitiate’s head that she was not allowed to suffer as much as the others” she explained to Brigitte. Then she called to the monks “Lift her off the platform. I want Brigitte to see her dance. We’ll make it just a baker’s dozen; she has work to do after this.”

tree