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Deleted member 16647
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I didn't know him
Do you know where this drawing comes from and what the entire scenario is ? I haven't found it in Google images
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Do you know where this drawing comes from and what the entire scenario is ? I haven't found it in Google images
D
Deleted member 16647
Guest
I love these scenes
Another Confederate spy uncovered and publicly chastised ...
The rebel leader's woman ...
Afrikaner ...
Another assassination plot against the Archduke uncovered ... 
Boccaccio
Governor
The rebel leader's woman ...
Hmm. The redcoats will be coming.
Apparently by sea, as the reconnaissance detail has whipped two breasts.
OK, so the code may not be sophisticated, but it's easy for the troops to remember.
Needless to say, this young beauty was flogged with a length of good stout Hessian cord, notorious for its coarseness
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Deleted member 16647
Guest
lol
The assassination plot against the Archiduke was less funny
My thoughts in approximately. But, you are faster.
Boccaccio
Governor
This young woman, a political opponent, publicly receives nude 100 strokes of the whip (France, beginning of 19th century)
I pity the poor French girls whose masters make them count the strokes. Especially as they approach 100.
It must be a lot easier for a bloodied beauty to gasp out '99' than 'quatre vingt dix neuf."
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Deleted member 16647
Guest
Precision : In Belgium and Swizerland (French language parts) it's 'nonante-neuf'.
And so sorry but 'cent' is shorter than 'one hundred', 'mille' than 'one thousand'
Pfff...
Boccaccio
Governor
Hey, if "Quatre Vingt Treize" {i.e. 1793, the year of the Terror} was good enough for Victor Hugo, it's good enough for me.
And so sorry but 'cent' is shorter than 'one hundred', 'mille' than 'one thousand.
For me, counting to one thousand en francais would be a cruel torment indeed - and one of extended duration!
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Deleted member 16647
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lol
The funniest is in Hungarian !
Boccaccio
Governor
In the Carpathian empire of the Dark Ages, many of the worst horrors took place in the dismal dungeons of the capital.
But from time to time, for the amusement of their subjects, the Carpathian warlords offered public entertainments to their bloodthirsty countrymen
The marauding Carpathian hordes abducted nubile women from every corner of their vast domain. Here is Marina, a beautiful wench they found on the shores of the Adriatic. A spirited and rebellious girl, Marina is led to the scaffold. She will be bound by her slender wrists to the grisly cross beam of a gallows. Hanging in the air, her shapely legs thrashing wildly, she will be lashed by the hangman until her back and buttocks and thighs are covered with blood.
She will already be at the point of exhaustion when her hooded tormentor turns his attention to her superb breasts to the delight of the throng of onlookers.
Magda, a Polish farm girl cringes as the heavy rope-whip sears her rounded bottomglobes. The crowd greets each lash with a tumultous cheer, and adolescent boys take up hard, unripe apples and fire them at her defenseless breasts.
Magda's punishment continues long into the afternoon as Sveta looks on in horror, knowing that her breasts and backside will soon share a similar fate.
Lara, a Slovenian beauty is held in the dungeon until the following Sunday, when, at the conclusion of church services in the great Cathedral, the overflowing crowd will make its way to the great square. They cheer wildly as the soldiers tear at the bodice of her dress and her delicious young breasts spring into view, and they cheer even louder as the rest of her threadbare garments are stripped from her body.
A few minutes later Lara is hanging by her heels from the crossbeam of the gallows, her pinkish-brown nipples hardened by the executioner's rough treatment. When the bells of the cathedral toll the hour her flogging begins, at the rate of one stroke per minute. The flogging will continue until the bell tolls again. Sixty strokes of the lash is her sentence, ten each to her back, her rounded buttocks, the backs of her supple thighs, the fronts of her thighs, her soft belly, and her superb breasts.
But from time to time, for the amusement of their subjects, the Carpathian warlords offered public entertainments to their bloodthirsty countrymen
The marauding Carpathian hordes abducted nubile women from every corner of their vast domain. Here is Marina, a beautiful wench they found on the shores of the Adriatic. A spirited and rebellious girl, Marina is led to the scaffold. She will be bound by her slender wrists to the grisly cross beam of a gallows. Hanging in the air, her shapely legs thrashing wildly, she will be lashed by the hangman until her back and buttocks and thighs are covered with blood.
She will already be at the point of exhaustion when her hooded tormentor turns his attention to her superb breasts to the delight of the throng of onlookers.
Magda, a Polish farm girl cringes as the heavy rope-whip sears her rounded bottomglobes. The crowd greets each lash with a tumultous cheer, and adolescent boys take up hard, unripe apples and fire them at her defenseless breasts.
Magda's punishment continues long into the afternoon as Sveta looks on in horror, knowing that her breasts and backside will soon share a similar fate.
Lara, a Slovenian beauty is held in the dungeon until the following Sunday, when, at the conclusion of church services in the great Cathedral, the overflowing crowd will make its way to the great square. They cheer wildly as the soldiers tear at the bodice of her dress and her delicious young breasts spring into view, and they cheer even louder as the rest of her threadbare garments are stripped from her body.
A few minutes later Lara is hanging by her heels from the crossbeam of the gallows, her pinkish-brown nipples hardened by the executioner's rough treatment. When the bells of the cathedral toll the hour her flogging begins, at the rate of one stroke per minute. The flogging will continue until the bell tolls again. Sixty strokes of the lash is her sentence, ten each to her back, her rounded buttocks, the backs of her supple thighs, the fronts of her thighs, her soft belly, and her superb breasts.
Boccaccio
Governor
On a trip to Venice, Lord Arbuthnot was pleased to drop by the country estate of a wealthy aristocrat who, it was rumored, was a descendant of Casanova himself.
Fittingly, Antonio Grimaldi's ancient palace was only blocks from the landmark that Byron had named the Bridge of Sighs because it led to the Doge's dungeons from whence few returned.
"I have some new tidbits for you my friend," Grimaldi said with a wink as he led Arbuthnot down a dark stone corridor."
Opening a door, the Italian made a flourish with his arm
"This is Lavinia. She's a bit of a spitfire still, but if anyone can tame her you can."
Lord Arbuthnot let his practiced eye ravage the young beauty's nakedness for a long moment. "Yes, she is exquisite. What else have you got to show me?"
A few moments later Grimaldi opened the door of another room. "Here we have Adriana; she scratched her last client quite severely; we have had to employ special restraints to make sure such a thing does not happen again."
Immobilized by her bonds, Adriana's ripe-nippled breasts rose and fell deliciously as she thrashed around to the extent permitted by the ropes. Notwithstanding her fury, her glistening pussy bespoke a passionate nature.
"Very, very nice," Arbuthnot whispered softly. "Have you anything else?"
A litle further down the dark passageway, Grimaldi threw open a third door, revealing another tightly bound beauty.
"May I present Adina? As you can see, I have had my servants bind her especially for you. You do still enjoy the appeal of breast-framing ropes, I trust?"
"Of course," Arbuthnot nodded emphatically. "Such ropework presents her breasts most admirably." The British peer paused, seemingly ruminating at the pleasant choice confronting him. "A thousand euros for the night for any of the three, I believe you said?"
Grimaldi inclined his head in assent.
"I'll tell you what, my friend. I'll take the lot for $2500, if you throw in a bottle of Masseto toscana, preferably 1992."
He paused for a moment to ogle Adina's naked breasts. "Oh, and I'll need a sturdy Malacca cane."
"But of course, my friend, " Grimaldi bowed, as a look of stark terror crept across Adina's lovely face. "But of course."
Fittingly, Antonio Grimaldi's ancient palace was only blocks from the landmark that Byron had named the Bridge of Sighs because it led to the Doge's dungeons from whence few returned.
"I have some new tidbits for you my friend," Grimaldi said with a wink as he led Arbuthnot down a dark stone corridor."
Opening a door, the Italian made a flourish with his arm
"This is Lavinia. She's a bit of a spitfire still, but if anyone can tame her you can."
Lord Arbuthnot let his practiced eye ravage the young beauty's nakedness for a long moment. "Yes, she is exquisite. What else have you got to show me?"
A few moments later Grimaldi opened the door of another room. "Here we have Adriana; she scratched her last client quite severely; we have had to employ special restraints to make sure such a thing does not happen again."
Immobilized by her bonds, Adriana's ripe-nippled breasts rose and fell deliciously as she thrashed around to the extent permitted by the ropes. Notwithstanding her fury, her glistening pussy bespoke a passionate nature.
"Very, very nice," Arbuthnot whispered softly. "Have you anything else?"
A litle further down the dark passageway, Grimaldi threw open a third door, revealing another tightly bound beauty.
"May I present Adina? As you can see, I have had my servants bind her especially for you. You do still enjoy the appeal of breast-framing ropes, I trust?"
"Of course," Arbuthnot nodded emphatically. "Such ropework presents her breasts most admirably." The British peer paused, seemingly ruminating at the pleasant choice confronting him. "A thousand euros for the night for any of the three, I believe you said?"
Grimaldi inclined his head in assent.
"I'll tell you what, my friend. I'll take the lot for $2500, if you throw in a bottle of Masseto toscana, preferably 1992."
He paused for a moment to ogle Adina's naked breasts. "Oh, and I'll need a sturdy Malacca cane."
"But of course, my friend, " Grimaldi bowed, as a look of stark terror crept across Adina's lovely face. "But of course."
D
Deleted member 16647
Guest
Thanks
I know all these pictures
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Deleted member 16647
Guest
Crying nude after torture
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Deleted member 16647
Guest
Crying nude after whipping
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Deleted member 16647
Guest
Whipped in public at Folsom Street
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Deleted member 16647
Guest
Anal torture
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Deleted member 16647
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Suffering nude on the poney for our pleasure 1
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Deleted member 16647
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Nude on the poney 2
3 and 5 : Elise Graves
The girls are really tortured
3 and 5 : Elise Graves
The girls are really tortured
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