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Doragon

Magistrate
Bear with me, this is a long story and crucifixion won't happen until chapter 11. The story contains a lot of other torture elements, some really bizarre and unrealistic, but hopefully fun for those who are into such things. Although there are three victims, two men and one woman, the story focuses mostly on her predicaments and she's the one ending up crucified. I will add some illustrations to the story, but it's mostly words. I love to hear feedback.

The ordeals of Alisa Foxen​

About a journalist sentenced to death by Islamic State.

By: Doragon (2021)

Disclaimer: All characters and events in this story are entirely fictional. The following story contains strong sexual elements, bizarre torture and is basically a sexual horror story.

Chapter 1: Sentencing​


Alisa was nervously fiddling with the hem of her shirt, her hands in her lap. The table in front of her was old, damaged and out of place as it appeared to have been somebody’s diner table at some point. Now it was in a makeshift court, like her. She glanced up at the three men forming the tribunal. Dressed in black, faces covered as if they were bandits from a bad movie. Two of them listened while the middle one spoke into the camera, giving a speech or something. She didn’t understand a word of what he said. It was Arabic of course as they were in Syria. She sighed as she knew she never should have come here. She brought a hand to the button at the top of her shirt, as if unconsciously checking if all were decently closed, as she kept doing for the past hour or so. She had been wearing a scarf over her head since the day she came to the country of course, but they had strangely enough taken that away from her.

She didn’t look at the others at this point. Both Charles and William were convinced that they were going to be put to death by decapitation. It had happened before with foreign journalists. They had spent de night together in a cell after their capture. Their car had been stopped and despite the papers that granting them international immunity on the grounds of being journalists, they had been dragged off to a small town and put in a room together of a building that was once a school. They had quietly discussed their fate and agreed there was little hope. She expected to be decapitated as well, as the state wasn’t known to be particularly soft on women. Her friends expected her to be spared such a fate. She had her doubts. There was of course also the possibility they made her into a sex slave. She knew what happened to lots of Yesidi women. She didn’t know what would be worse, death or slavery. Her hand felt the neckline of her shirt as if it was too tight. The sharia judge ended his speech. He looked at them now and as the camera also turned to them, she quickly lowered her hand.

“You have come to our territory under false pretences,” he said and she was surprised he spoke English so perfectly. “Posing as journalists while actually working on a program to turn our women against us. This is unforgiveable.” Charles started to protest, saying with a loud voice that they were not here to do any such thing, but he got hit on the head to make him shut up.

“Don’t speak until I ask you something,” said the judge. Alisa wondered how he got such a perfect English accent. Was he actually British? Or had he lived in the UK? She knew the Islamic fighters came from all over the world, not just from Syria or Iraq.

Charles was now silent and she turned her attention back to the judge while he spoke to them about the Koran, the Sharia and the fact they were not regarded as civilians with rights as they were neither Muslim or members of Islamic State.

“As enemies of the state all three of you deserve to die,” he finally said, confirming what they already expected. “But we have decided that a simple decapitation is too easy, especially for you, Miss Foxen,” he added directing himself to her. She cringed inside and felt her hands tremble.

“We cannot accept foreign interference like this, but from a woman this is utterly intolerable. We know about your plans and opinions from the articles you have written in the last couple of years. Feminist propaganda, claiming how women have the right to abandon their husbands and even have a right to kill their unborn children. This is an affront to Allah, praised be his name. Because you are a disease, you should be eradicated. We have decided that you deserve the ultimate punishment and we should make you into an example for anyone else trying to undermine the truth and our way of life.”

Alisa couldn’t believe her ears and started to tremble even more. What was he saying? How could he accuse her of crimes when all she did was stand up for the oppressed. She was no criminal, he was a criminal himself! And how was death in itself not bad enough? What else did they want?

The judge took a piece of paper and gave her a long stare before he started reading, this time speaking in Arabic for the benefit of the crowd in the courtroom. The camera was back on him, recording everything he said. Alisa didn’t understand anything he read and waited nervously. Then the camera turned to her, while the judge started to read the translation to them. The camera was recording her face to see how she reacted to the verdict.

“The court condemns Alisa Foxen to death by torture. She will publicly be tortured for five days. On the first day she will be flogged. On the second day she will be hanged and impaled. On the third day she will be crucified and undergo further torture while being kept alive until the evening of the fifth day. Because she is not a Muslim, we see no reason to keep her modest and since she deserves to be humiliated to the maximum extend, all torture will be conducted in public on her naked body. She will be filmed and everything will be broadcast so the public will see what fate awaits those foreign women who try to disrupt our way of life and our beliefs. The two men that accompanied her and worked with her as spies, named Charles Wood and William Pole, will witness everything done to Miss Foxen, while also being tortured. On the fifth day they will be publicly decapitated.”

Alisa was dazed when she heard the verdict. Charles sprang up and started shouting while they hit him with sticks. William also jumped to his feet and tried to resist his attackers.

“We do not accept this court,” shouted Charles. “You have no right,” added William in protest. “We demand a lawyer!”

They were both quickly subdued with forceful blows of sticks by several men guarding them. Alisa was silently shaking while she tried to comprehend the verdict that she just heard. She had not moved a muscle, too numb to move, but she had visibly been trembling.
 

montycrusto

Slave Trader
Great start @Doragon ! This promises to be quite a hard-edged tale, thank you for the heads-up at the start. Just realised “heads-up” might be an unfortunate phrasing in this context... :doh: .. I like the way you focus on little details like the texture of the table, or the way Alisa fiddles with her top button, these “puncta” bring a lot of realism and depth to the story. I look forward to more!
 

Barbaria1

Rebel Leader
Staff member
Nice writing. Clear and enhanced with quality thick description. Looking forward to more.
 

Doragon

Magistrate

Chapter 2: Negotiations​



They were brought back to the improvised cellblock, but were no longer locked up together. Alisa was pushed in a small room, probably previously used as a cabinet of sorts. The small room was old and dirty and they had placed an old bed in it and a wooden chair that looked unstable. The light of a single pear lit up the room. She could not switch off the light from the inside. Alisa sat down on the soiled sheet on the bed and wept in desperation, both scared and confused about her fate. She could not comprehend why they were doing this to her but she also couldn’t grasp the full extent of what they were going to do. The words had not made a lot of sense to her.

The door opened after an hour or so and the judge that read the sentence earlier, stepped in, accompanied by the other two men who were no longer covering their faces. She noticed their bearded features and dark skin tone, making them look like the warriors from documentaries. They clearly felt contempt for her as they watched her with disdain in their eyes. Alisa felt scared and clenched her fists while she stayed seated on the bed. She was trembling in fear, confusion and anger.

The judge took position in front of her while he too lowered the black cloth that had been covering his face. She noticed his white complexion and red beard.

“You are English” she blurted, not able to hide her surprise. He smiled and nodded.

“Born and raised,” he responded. “Converted to the faith a few years back and came to Syria to fight for the cause.”

“I am English too,” she said softly, “how can you do this to me?” He shrugged, not answering her question.

“My name is Mahdi,” he then said. “I will direct the whole procedure. I’m sure you are full of questions.”

“I do have a lot of questions, yes,” she replied and she felt her face blushing with anger. “Why am I put to death? Why do you want me tortured? And why do you insist on me being naked when you punish your women for showing nothing but their faces to a stranger?” That part was what bugged her more than anything, the stupid contradiction with their beliefs.

“You are not Muslima,” he said. “You are nothing but a Western whore. If we allowed you to dress decently during your execution, people would feel pity for you. But naked they can see you for the whore you are.”

Alisa jumped to her feet, face bright red in pure anger at this point. She tried to strike him, slap him in the face, but he caught her hand and the other two also leapt forward to grab her by the arms and push her back down on the bed. Mahdi chuckled as he let her hand go and then made a gesture for her to shut up, stopping the rant she was about to give him.

“You are barbaric,” she shouted before being silenced.

“I am a very cultured man,” he said, “not barbaric at all. You are the one who is barbaric.” He grabbed the single chair in the room and sat down on it after checking if it held his weight. The other two let go of Alisa’s arms but kept close to her in case she had another outburst.

“Walking around in sexy clothes or in skimpy bikinis on the beach as naked monkeys while not allowing a man to look or touch. We’re going to show people what happens if a pretty girl tries to seduce men with her body. Women all over the country will think twice about revealing their bodies and men will learn to control their urges by associating a naked body with horrible things. Cultured people control their urges and do not give in to primitive lust.”

“You are mad,” hissed the young woman.

“Perhaps, but you are in my country now and you cannot behave seductively or tell women to behave indecently without paying the consequences.”

“I was not telling women to behave indecently,” she replied.

“You were going to,” he said. “We read your articles. You were planning to spread pamphlets about birth control, the right to education and the right to choose. What else were you going to tell them? To use nail polish, uncover their faces and allow the sun to touch their skin, you were going to turn them into whores?”

Alisa’s face once more blushed deep red. “Freedom for women does not turn them into whores,” she hissed angrily. “It’s a human right to dress as you want and receive education and protection from rape.”

“Not in this country,” replied Mahdi. “You should have stayed home. By coming here with your ideas and trying to brainwash our women, you have signed your death warrant.”

“This is against international law and human rights,” she protested.

“We don’t acknowledge those,” he said with a shrug.

Silence. Her mind was racing but she knew it was pointless to protest any further.

“What is your plan,” she finally said with a soft voice.

“Like I said in the verdict, we are going to torture you to death over a period of five days.”

Alisa shook her head as if she tried to dismiss those words.

“You can’t do this to me,” she whispered.

“I can and I will. I am here to guide the way as it were.”

“But please, there must be something I can do to get out of this? What if I go public and agree to my mistake? I can even read from the Koran if you want.”

He was visibly angry at her remark and then he pulled a few pieces of paper from his pocket. He unfolded it. It appeared to be a print, A4 size, some picture it seemed, though she could only see the backside at first.

“Once we knew your name, which of course we got from your papers and passport, I did a search on you on the internet.” He looked up at her and then slowly turned the paper around. She gasped.

“Look what I found,” he said.

She blushed bright red and stammered “That’s private.”

“Why was it on the internet then?”

“It’s from a friend,” she replied.

“This is not you?” he asked.

“It is me, but… the photo is from a friend. He is a photographer and I did some modelling a few years ago.”

“You mean you worked as a porn actress?” he sneered. “Now why would you not be a whore?”

She was both shocked and angry at this point.

“Look, it was just one photoshoot. Nothing special and no sex.”

“To me you look very naked here. Bare tits, naked pussy even, showing it all really. And this photographer of yours makes a lot of pictures of naked girls. I saw his website.”

“It was just a job,” she said, “To pay for college!”

He shook his head.

“For a decent girl you certainly have some low morals.”

“It meant nothing,” she exclaimed, “You can hardly see anything. It was all done in good taste!”

He glanced at the picture and replied “Showing your tits and pussy to strangers, how is that good taste?”

“I didn’t spread my legs!” she exclaimed even louder, not understanding why he didn’t get it.

“Imagine your future husband and children finding out you shared your naked body with the whole world.”

She gave a loud cry in frustration and reached out to try and grab the photo, but he pulled the paper back before she could reach it.

“There’s more,” he said softly and he showed her a second photo.

“I contacted the photographer after seeing that one picture in his portfolio and I bought the entire photoshoot. And look what I found.” It showed her full frontal nude with her shirt pulled over her head.

“Is this what you want from our women? To hide their faces but be completely stripped and naked?”

Alisa suddenly saw what he saw. It looked like she was wearing a niqab while still being naked.

“No, no,” she shouted, “You don’t understand. It’s just my shirt pulled over my head!”

“I can see that,” he said, “but the message and statement you make is quite clear. You are saying all Muslimas are whores underneath their clothes.”

Alisa cried out in frustration.

“Look, I am really sorry,” she said, “I had no idea this would be insulting to you. I didn’t mean it!”

He kept silent and just looked at her.

“What do you want from me?” she exclaimed. She realized it was impossible to reason with him. And she cursed herself for ever allowing the photographer to use this picture of her in his online portfolio. And with her name too. Who else had seen that?

“I want to see you suffer. I want you hurt beyond your imagination. And I want to humiliate you every way possible.”

Alisa swallowed and started shaking again.

“Why?” she whispered.

“To show all the women in the world what a whore deserves.”

“You are insane”, said Alisa. “Who was the woman that hurt you so bad that you hate every other woman for it?”

Mahdi shook his head. “You are mistaken. I am simply being righteous.”

He tossed the two photos on the floor in front of her feet. She looked down at them, seeing the younger version of herself. Luckily she had not changed much since then. But she wrapped her arms around herself realizing this man knew what she looked like naked when he had sentenced her. Men found her attractive. She herself had always felt her breasts were too large and no matter how much she trained, she never got that flat tummy she liked. But she knew she was pretty and for some reason it was now working against her.

Alisa nude internet photos-b.jpg
Alisa drew in her breath, trying to calm herself a bit, but the fear was too strong. The room stayed silent. Her mind was racing. After a while she whimpered softly, realizing how futile it was to try to reason with him. But she desperately needed a way out.

“What can I do to make you go …. easier on me?” she whispered.

“Well, not much to be honest,” he replied, “but we can negotiate. We will torture you and you will be put to death, that won’t change. But we can negotiate about which tortures to apply.”

She almost vomited at the thought of having to negotiate about the extent of her tortures and she stared wide-eyed at him

“For instance,” he continued, “we are going to flog you tomorrow, in the square, in front of a crowd. Naked. There’s no negotiation about that. But do you want to be tied down for it? Or hung by your wrists? Or maybe upside down?”

“Oh no,” she gasped, “not upside down!”

He nodded and smiled as negotiations had clearly begun.

“Alright, not upside down, but then we need something in return. How about standing with arms and legs wide between two posts?”

“Not with my legs wide,” she gasped, “I will be naked and everybody can see me down there.”

“True, but that will be the least of your worries. Spreading your legs is not for that reason, it is to give easier access to your pussy to hit you down there.”

“What?” she cried out, “You can’t hit me down there.”

“We are going to hit you down there,” he said, “but I am willing to postpone that until the last series of strokes.”

Alisa blinked while trembling harder, a tear falling from her eyes.

“You can’t do that to me,” she whimpered.

“Your choice, either we flog your cunt the whole time, or only at the end.” He tilted his head while waiting for her answer.

“Only at the end then,” she sighed, lowering her eyes in despair.

“Good, agreed, we will flog you while tied between two posts and only at the end will we turn our attention to your pussy.”

She blushed as he referred to her genitals with both cunt and pussy. He noticed that and grinned.

“Pussy,” he said, “cunt,” he added, enjoying her clear wincing.

“Now do you want to be flogged from both sides at the same time?” he asked. She gasped and shook her head. She couldn’t imagine the pain if both her back and front were flogged at the same time.

“Alright, do you prefer the back first or the front?”

“The back,” she whispered, shivering as she said it out loud. She put her hands to her mouth in shock and whined. It sounded in her ears as if she was asking for it, while it was undoubtedly going to be pure horror. She couldn’t imagine how much it was going to hurt and she dreaded the whole idea of being whipped, but she imagined her back would hurt less than her front.

“As for the type of whip,” he continued, “Do you prefer to be whipped on your back with a bull whip, a cat o’ nine tails or the scourge?”

“What’s the difference?” asked Alisa with a dry mouth.

“The bull whip is a long leather whip, single strand, the cat o’ nine tails is made from cotton and has nine strands, as the name already suggests, and the scourge has three strands but with beads on them.”

Alisa gasped and tears ran down her cheeks as she stammered “they are all horrible.”

Mahdi nodded and said “That’s the whole purpose. But which one do you prefer for your back?”

Alisa had no idea which one would hurt the most or which one would do less damage, but in her mind it sounded like the more strands there were, the more painful it would be.

“The bull whip,” she replied softly.

Mahdi nodded and made a note of it.

“And for your pussy at the end, the cat or the scourge?”

Alisa started sobbing, her shoulders shaking. “The cat,” she whispered, imagining how terrible it would be to be whipped on her pussy with a beaded three stranded flogger. But then she noticed her mistake as Mahdi said “Very well, the scourge will be used only on your breasts then.”

“NO,” she gasped, “please, don’t use the scourge on my breasts!”

“On your pussy then?”

Alisa shook her head and wept again. She didn’t want to be whipped at all.

“This is no negotiation,” she cried, “you are going to do horrible things to me anyways!”

“Well yeah,” said Mahdi with a smile, “it’s called torture for a reason.”

Alisa was desperate and suddenly launched herself forward, trying to attack Mahdi a second time. The two men that were on either side of her caught her though and held her kicking and screaming in mid-air, while she cursed and cried out, tears of anger and despair streaming down her face. Mahdi got up as well and slapped her in the face, saying “Control yourself. This won’t solve anything. And you just bought yourself the worst option. We will flog your entire front with the cat and we’ll use the scourge on both your breasts and on your pussy as well. And be glad I don’t replace the beads with razor blades!”

Alisa fell back down on the bed, shocked at his verdict.

“Please,” she whimpered sobbing and trembling all over.

“This is the best you’re going to get,” he said, “Don’t make me use all three whips all over your body, including your face.”

She gasped and cried, holding her hands in front of her face, feeling sick to the stomach.

“Do we have an agreement?” asked Mahdi cruelly, “do you agree to the setup we just discussed?”

She nodded and looked up, only to see through her tears how Mahdi was now opening his pants to get his erect cock out.

“This is exciting,” he said, “to have an agreement so quickly. But I want you to seal the deal by sucking my dick.”

It was no surprise that rape was also going to be part of her ordeal, but having to suck his dick as approval for the terrible thing they were going to do to her the next day, was really hard to bear. And yet she had no choice, which was also made clear by the hand on her head from one of the guards who pushed her forward, insisting that she started. She went forward on the bed, bringing her face close to Mahdi’s crotch. Everything inside her screamed against it, but she knew she had no choice. His penis was long and fleshy and even in erect shape his foreskin covered the swollen red glans. She opened her mouth as he got closer to her face and felt sick as she smelled the penetrating scent of urine and unwashed penis. He didn’t care about that and shoved his penis into her mouth, saying “Give me a good blowjob and I might go a bit easier on you tomorrow.”

She pushed her disgust to the back of her mind and tried not to think while she started to suck on the penis, that turned out not only to be smelly, but foul tasting as well. He didn’t move at all and let her do all the work. She carefully used her tongue on his penis, avoiding to touch him with her teeth, scared to give him any reason for more brutality. But as she took him deeper into her mouth she retched and suddenly she couldn’t take it anymore, pulling back from him. She coughed and put a hand over her mouth, shaking her head. But the two silent guards took her hands and held them at her sides, while Mahdi grabbed her head to pull her forward again. He jammed his cock into her mouth and kept her face impaled on his cock while he started to fuck her mouth. He pushed all the way back into her throat, causing her to gag. Within seconds his penis got very hard and hot while he suddenly erupted into the back of her mouth, filling her throat with thick globs of disgusting tasting semen.

“Be a good girl and swallow,” he said panting, “and lick my cock clean.” She tried to comply but choked and retched so hard, she could not swallow the strong tasting semen. It leaked from her lips and ran down her chin and when he released her head, she quickly pulled back, coughing and gagging. “Too bad you couldn’t do it,” he said, “I was willing to be more lenient but you clearly do not deserve it.” Alisa felt a shiver running down her spine.

“We are in agreement about the order of whipping,” said the man with a smile while pulling his cock back and putting it in his pants. “Tomorrow we can have new negotiations on the hanging and impaling in two days. Unless you don’t deserve a voice in the matter.”

He walked to the door and left. Alisa vomited into the bucket in the corner of the room and then curled up on the bed while trembling like a leaf.
 

ShadowWolf

Tribune
Bear with me, this is a long story and crucifixion won't happen until chapter 11. The story contains a lot of other torture elements, some really bizarre and unrealistic, but hopefully fun for those who are into such things. Although there are three victims, two men and one woman, the story focuses mostly on her predicaments and she's the one ending up crucified. I will add some illustrations to the story, but it's mostly words. I love to hear feedback.

The ordeals of Alisa Foxen​

About a journalist sentenced to death by Islamic State.

By: Doragon (2021)

Disclaimer: All characters and events in this story are entirely fictional. The following story contains strong sexual elements, bizarre torture and is basically a sexual horror story.

Chapter 1: Sentencing​


Alisa was nervously fiddling with the hem of her shirt, her hands in her lap. The table in front of her was old, damaged and out of place as it appeared to have been somebody’s diner table at some point. Now it was in a makeshift court, like her. She glanced up at the three men forming the tribunal. Dressed in black, faces covered as if they were bandits from a bad movie. Two of them listened while the middle one spoke into the camera, giving a speech or something. She didn’t understand a word of what he said. It was Arabic of course as they were in Syria. She sighed as she knew she never should have come here. She brought a hand to the button at the top of her shirt, as if unconsciously checking if all were decently closed, as she kept doing for the past hour or so. She had been wearing a scarf over her head since the day she came to the country of course, but they had strangely enough taken that away from her.

She didn’t look at the others at this point. Both Charles and William were convinced that they were going to be put to death by decapitation. It had happened before with foreign journalists. They had spent de night together in a cell after their capture. Their car had been stopped and despite the papers that granting them international immunity on the grounds of being journalists, they had been dragged off to a small town and put in a room together of a building that was once a school. They had quietly discussed their fate and agreed there was little hope. She expected to be decapitated as well, as the state wasn’t known to be particularly soft on women. Her friends expected her to be spared such a fate. She had her doubts. There was of course also the possibility they made her into a sex slave. She knew what happened to lots of Yesidi women. She didn’t know what would be worse, death or slavery. Her hand felt the neckline of her shirt as if it was too tight. The sharia judge ended his speech. He looked at them now and as the camera also turned to them, she quickly lowered her hand.

“You have come to our territory under false pretences,” he said and she was surprised he spoke English so perfectly. “Posing as journalists while actually working on a program to turn our women against us. This is unforgiveable.” Charles started to protest, saying with a loud voice that they were not here to do any such thing, but he got hit on the head to make him shut up.

“Don’t speak until I ask you something,” said the judge. Alisa wondered how he got such a perfect English accent. Was he actually British? Or had he lived in the UK? She knew the Islamic fighters came from all over the world, not just from Syria or Iraq.

Charles was now silent and she turned her attention back to the judge while he spoke to them about the Koran, the Sharia and the fact they were not regarded as civilians with rights as they were neither Muslim or members of Islamic State.

“As enemies of the state all three of you deserve to die,” he finally said, confirming what they already expected. “But we have decided that a simple decapitation is too easy, especially for you, Miss Foxen,” he added directing himself to her. She cringed inside and felt her hands tremble.

“We cannot accept foreign interference like this, but from a woman this is utterly intolerable. We know about your plans and opinions from the articles you have written in the last couple of years. Feminist propaganda, claiming how women have the right to abandon their husbands and even have a right to kill their unborn children. This is an affront to Allah, praised be his name. Because you are a disease, you should be eradicated. We have decided that you deserve the ultimate punishment and we should make you into an example for anyone else trying to undermine the truth and our way of life.”

Alisa couldn’t believe her ears and started to tremble even more. What was he saying? How could he accuse her of crimes when all she did was stand up for the oppressed. She was no criminal, he was a criminal himself! And how was death in itself not bad enough? What else did they want?

The judge took a piece of paper and gave her a long stare before he started reading, this time speaking in Arabic for the benefit of the crowd in the courtroom. The camera was back on him, recording everything he said. Alisa didn’t understand anything he read and waited nervously. Then the camera turned to her, while the judge started to read the translation to them. The camera was recording her face to see how she reacted to the verdict.

“The court condemns Alisa Foxen to death by torture. She will publicly be tortured for five days. On the first day she will be flogged. On the second day she will be hanged and impaled. On the third day she will be crucified and undergo further torture while being kept alive until the evening of the fifth day. Because she is not a Muslim, we see no reason to keep her modest and since she deserves to be humiliated to the maximum extend, all torture will be conducted in public on her naked body. She will be filmed and everything will be broadcast so the public will see what fate awaits those foreign women who try to disrupt our way of life and our beliefs. The two men that accompanied her and worked with her as spies, named Charles Wood and William Pole, will witness everything done to Miss Foxen, while also being tortured. On the fifth day they will be publicly decapitated.”

Alisa was dazed when she heard the verdict. Charles sprang up and started shouting while they hit him with sticks. William also jumped to his feet and tried to resist his attackers.

“We do not accept this court,” shouted Charles. “You have no right,” added William in protest. “We demand a lawyer!”

They were both quickly subdued with forceful blows of sticks by several men guarding them. Alisa was silently shaking while she tried to comprehend the verdict that she just heard. She had not moved a muscle, too numb to move, but she had visibly been trembling.
Well done with the main character Alisa. You did a great job of finding out what type of person she is by expressing her thoughts very well. Also the description of the court room was done well. It would have helped to have a better physical description of the characters. I am sure though you are waiting for that until the torture begins.
 

nicole

Governor

Chapter 2: Negotiations​



They were brought back to the improvised cellblock, but were no longer locked up together. Alisa was pushed in a small room, probably previously used as a cabinet of sorts. The small room was old and dirty and they had placed an old bed in it and a wooden chair that looked unstable. The light of a single pear lit up the room. She could not switch off the light from the inside. Alisa sat down on the soiled sheet on the bed and wept in desperation, both scared and confused about her fate. She could not comprehend why they were doing this to her but she also couldn’t grasp the full extent of what they were going to do. The words had not made a lot of sense to her.

The door opened after an hour or so and the judge that read the sentence earlier, stepped in, accompanied by the other two men who were no longer covering their faces. She noticed their bearded features and dark skin tone, making them look like the warriors from documentaries. They clearly felt contempt for her as they watched her with disdain in their eyes. Alisa felt scared and clenched her fists while she stayed seated on the bed. She was trembling in fear, confusion and anger.

The judge took position in front of her while he too lowered the black cloth that had been covering his face. She noticed his white complexion and red beard.

“You are English” she blurted, not able to hide her surprise. He smiled and nodded.

“Born and raised,” he responded. “Converted to the faith a few years back and came to Syria to fight for the cause.”

“I am English too,” she said softly, “how can you do this to me?” He shrugged, not answering her question.

“My name is Mahdi,” he then said. “I will direct the whole procedure. I’m sure you are full of questions.”

“I do have a lot of questions, yes,” she replied and she felt her face blushing with anger. “Why am I put to death? Why do you want me tortured? And why do you insist on me being naked when you punish your women for showing nothing but their faces to a stranger?” That part was what bugged her more than anything, the stupid contradiction with their beliefs.

“You are not Muslima,” he said. “You are nothing but a Western whore. If we allowed you to dress decently during your execution, people would feel pity for you. But naked they can see you for the whore you are.”

Alisa jumped to her feet, face bright red in pure anger at this point. She tried to strike him, slap him in the face, but he caught her hand and the other two also leapt forward to grab her by the arms and push her back down on the bed. Mahdi chuckled as he let her hand go and then made a gesture for her to shut up, stopping the rant she was about to give him.

“You are barbaric,” she shouted before being silenced.

“I am a very cultured man,” he said, “not barbaric at all. You are the one who is barbaric.” He grabbed the single chair in the room and sat down on it after checking if it held his weight. The other two let go of Alisa’s arms but kept close to her in case she had another outburst.

“Walking around in sexy clothes or in skimpy bikinis on the beach as naked monkeys while not allowing a man to look or touch. We’re going to show people what happens if a pretty girl tries to seduce men with her body. Women all over the country will think twice about revealing their bodies and men will learn to control their urges by associating a naked body with horrible things. Cultured people control their urges and do not give in to primitive lust.”

“You are mad,” hissed the young woman.

“Perhaps, but you are in my country now and you cannot behave seductively or tell women to behave indecently without paying the consequences.”

“I was not telling women to behave indecently,” she replied.

“You were going to,” he said. “We read your articles. You were planning to spread pamphlets about birth control, the right to education and the right to choose. What else were you going to tell them? To use nail polish, uncover their faces and allow the sun to touch their skin, you were going to turn them into whores?”

Alisa’s face once more blushed deep red. “Freedom for women does not turn them into whores,” she hissed angrily. “It’s a human right to dress as you want and receive education and protection from rape.”

“Not in this country,” replied Mahdi. “You should have stayed home. By coming here with your ideas and trying to brainwash our women, you have signed your death warrant.”

“This is against international law and human rights,” she protested.

“We don’t acknowledge those,” he said with a shrug.

Silence. Her mind was racing but she knew it was pointless to protest any further.

“What is your plan,” she finally said with a soft voice.

“Like I said in the verdict, we are going to torture you to death over a period of five days.”

Alisa shook her head as if she tried to dismiss those words.

“You can’t do this to me,” she whispered.

“I can and I will. I am here to guide the way as it were.”

“But please, there must be something I can do to get out of this? What if I go public and agree to my mistake? I can even read from the Koran if you want.”

He was visibly angry at her remark and then he pulled a few pieces of paper from his pocket. He unfolded it. It appeared to be a print, A4 size, some picture it seemed, though she could only see the backside at first.

“Once we knew your name, which of course we got from your papers and passport, I did a search on you on the internet.” He looked up at her and then slowly turned the paper around. She gasped.

“Look what I found,” he said.

She blushed bright red and stammered “That’s private.”

“Why was it on the internet then?”

“It’s from a friend,” she replied.

“This is not you?” he asked.

“It is me, but… the photo is from a friend. He is a photographer and I did some modelling a few years ago.”

“You mean you worked as a porn actress?” he sneered. “Now why would you not be a whore?”

She was both shocked and angry at this point.

“Look, it was just one photoshoot. Nothing special and no sex.”

“To me you look very naked here. Bare tits, naked pussy even, showing it all really. And this photographer of yours makes a lot of pictures of naked girls. I saw his website.”

“It was just a job,” she said, “To pay for college!”

He shook his head.

“For a decent girl you certainly have some low morals.”

“It meant nothing,” she exclaimed, “You can hardly see anything. It was all done in good taste!”

He glanced at the picture and replied “Showing your tits and pussy to strangers, how is that good taste?”

“I didn’t spread my legs!” she exclaimed even louder, not understanding why he didn’t get it.

“Imagine your future husband and children finding out you shared your naked body with the whole world.”

She gave a loud cry in frustration and reached out to try and grab the photo, but he pulled the paper back before she could reach it.

“There’s more,” he said softly and he showed her a second photo.

“I contacted the photographer after seeing that one picture in his portfolio and I bought the entire photoshoot. And look what I found.” It showed her full frontal nude with her shirt pulled over her head.

“Is this what you want from our women? To hide their faces but be completely stripped and naked?”

Alisa suddenly saw what he saw. It looked like she was wearing a niqab while still being naked.

“No, no,” she shouted, “You don’t understand. It’s just my shirt pulled over my head!”

“I can see that,” he said, “but the message and statement you make is quite clear. You are saying all Muslimas are whores underneath their clothes.”

Alisa cried out in frustration.

“Look, I am really sorry,” she said, “I had no idea this would be insulting to you. I didn’t mean it!”

He kept silent and just looked at her.

“What do you want from me?” she exclaimed. She realized it was impossible to reason with him. And she cursed herself for ever allowing the photographer to use this picture of her in his online portfolio. And with her name too. Who else had seen that?

“I want to see you suffer. I want you hurt beyond your imagination. And I want to humiliate you every way possible.”

Alisa swallowed and started shaking again.

“Why?” she whispered.

“To show all the women in the world what a whore deserves.”

“You are insane”, said Alisa. “Who was the woman that hurt you so bad that you hate every other woman for it?”

Mahdi shook his head. “You are mistaken. I am simply being righteous.”

He tossed the two photos on the floor in front of her feet. She looked down at them, seeing the younger version of herself. Luckily she had not changed much since then. But she wrapped her arms around herself realizing this man knew what she looked like naked when he had sentenced her. Men found her attractive. She herself had always felt her breasts were too large and no matter how much she trained, she never got that flat tummy she liked. But she knew she was pretty and for some reason it was now working against her.

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Alisa drew in her breath, trying to calm herself a bit, but the fear was too strong. The room stayed silent. Her mind was racing. After a while she whimpered softly, realizing how futile it was to try to reason with him. But she desperately needed a way out.

“What can I do to make you go …. easier on me?” she whispered.

“Well, not much to be honest,” he replied, “but we can negotiate. We will torture you and you will be put to death, that won’t change. But we can negotiate about which tortures to apply.”

She almost vomited at the thought of having to negotiate about the extent of her tortures and she stared wide-eyed at him

“For instance,” he continued, “we are going to flog you tomorrow, in the square, in front of a crowd. Naked. There’s no negotiation about that. But do you want to be tied down for it? Or hung by your wrists? Or maybe upside down?”

“Oh no,” she gasped, “not upside down!”

He nodded and smiled as negotiations had clearly begun.

“Alright, not upside down, but then we need something in return. How about standing with arms and legs wide between two posts?”

“Not with my legs wide,” she gasped, “I will be naked and everybody can see me down there.”

“True, but that will be the least of your worries. Spreading your legs is not for that reason, it is to give easier access to your pussy to hit you down there.”

“What?” she cried out, “You can’t hit me down there.”

“We are going to hit you down there,” he said, “but I am willing to postpone that until the last series of strokes.”

Alisa blinked while trembling harder, a tear falling from her eyes.

“You can’t do that to me,” she whimpered.

“Your choice, either we flog your cunt the whole time, or only at the end.” He tilted his head while waiting for her answer.

“Only at the end then,” she sighed, lowering her eyes in despair.

“Good, agreed, we will flog you while tied between two posts and only at the end will we turn our attention to your pussy.”

She blushed as he referred to her genitals with both cunt and pussy. He noticed that and grinned.

“Pussy,” he said, “cunt,” he added, enjoying her clear wincing.

“Now do you want to be flogged from both sides at the same time?” he asked. She gasped and shook her head. She couldn’t imagine the pain if both her back and front were flogged at the same time.

“Alright, do you prefer the back first or the front?”

“The back,” she whispered, shivering as she said it out loud. She put her hands to her mouth in shock and whined. It sounded in her ears as if she was asking for it, while it was undoubtedly going to be pure horror. She couldn’t imagine how much it was going to hurt and she dreaded the whole idea of being whipped, but she imagined her back would hurt less than her front.

“As for the type of whip,” he continued, “Do you prefer to be whipped on your back with a bull whip, a cat o’ nine tails or the scourge?”

“What’s the difference?” asked Alisa with a dry mouth.

“The bull whip is a long leather whip, single strand, the cat o’ nine tails is made from cotton and has nine strands, as the name already suggests, and the scourge has three strands but with beads on them.”

Alisa gasped and tears ran down her cheeks as she stammered “they are all horrible.”

Mahdi nodded and said “That’s the whole purpose. But which one do you prefer for your back?”

Alisa had no idea which one would hurt the most or which one would do less damage, but in her mind it sounded like the more strands there were, the more painful it would be.

“The bull whip,” she replied softly.

Mahdi nodded and made a note of it.

“And for your pussy at the end, the cat or the scourge?”

Alisa started sobbing, her shoulders shaking. “The cat,” she whispered, imagining how terrible it would be to be whipped on her pussy with a beaded three stranded flogger. But then she noticed her mistake as Mahdi said “Very well, the scourge will be used only on your breasts then.”

“NO,” she gasped, “please, don’t use the scourge on my breasts!”

“On your pussy then?”

Alisa shook her head and wept again. She didn’t want to be whipped at all.

“This is no negotiation,” she cried, “you are going to do horrible things to me anyways!”

“Well yeah,” said Mahdi with a smile, “it’s called torture for a reason.”

Alisa was desperate and suddenly launched herself forward, trying to attack Mahdi a second time. The two men that were on either side of her caught her though and held her kicking and screaming in mid-air, while she cursed and cried out, tears of anger and despair streaming down her face. Mahdi got up as well and slapped her in the face, saying “Control yourself. This won’t solve anything. And you just bought yourself the worst option. We will flog your entire front with the cat and we’ll use the scourge on both your breasts and on your pussy as well. And be glad I don’t replace the beads with razor blades!”

Alisa fell back down on the bed, shocked at his verdict.

“Please,” she whimpered sobbing and trembling all over.

“This is the best you’re going to get,” he said, “Don’t make me use all three whips all over your body, including your face.”

She gasped and cried, holding her hands in front of her face, feeling sick to the stomach.

“Do we have an agreement?” asked Mahdi cruelly, “do you agree to the setup we just discussed?”

She nodded and looked up, only to see through her tears how Mahdi was now opening his pants to get his erect cock out.

“This is exciting,” he said, “to have an agreement so quickly. But I want you to seal the deal by sucking my dick.”

It was no surprise that rape was also going to be part of her ordeal, but having to suck his dick as approval for the terrible thing they were going to do to her the next day, was really hard to bear. And yet she had no choice, which was also made clear by the hand on her head from one of the guards who pushed her forward, insisting that she started. She went forward on the bed, bringing her face close to Mahdi’s crotch. Everything inside her screamed against it, but she knew she had no choice. His penis was long and fleshy and even in erect shape his foreskin covered the swollen red glans. She opened her mouth as he got closer to her face and felt sick as she smelled the penetrating scent of urine and unwashed penis. He didn’t care about that and shoved his penis into her mouth, saying “Give me a good blowjob and I might go a bit easier on you tomorrow.”

She pushed her disgust to the back of her mind and tried not to think while she started to suck on the penis, that turned out not only to be smelly, but foul tasting as well. He didn’t move at all and let her do all the work. She carefully used her tongue on his penis, avoiding to touch him with her teeth, scared to give him any reason for more brutality. But as she took him deeper into her mouth she retched and suddenly she couldn’t take it anymore, pulling back from him. She coughed and put a hand over her mouth, shaking her head. But the two silent guards took her hands and held them at her sides, while Mahdi grabbed her head to pull her forward again. He jammed his cock into her mouth and kept her face impaled on his cock while he started to fuck her mouth. He pushed all the way back into her throat, causing her to gag. Within seconds his penis got very hard and hot while he suddenly erupted into the back of her mouth, filling her throat with thick globs of disgusting tasting semen.

“Be a good girl and swallow,” he said panting, “and lick my cock clean.” She tried to comply but choked and retched so hard, she could not swallow the strong tasting semen. It leaked from her lips and ran down her chin and when he released her head, she quickly pulled back, coughing and gagging. “Too bad you couldn’t do it,” he said, “I was willing to be more lenient but you clearly do not deserve it.” Alisa felt a shiver running down her spine.

“We are in agreement about the order of whipping,” said the man with a smile while pulling his cock back and putting it in his pants. “Tomorrow we can have new negotiations on the hanging and impaling in two days. Unless you don’t deserve a voice in the matter.”

He walked to the door and left. Alisa vomited into the bucket in the corner of the room and then curled up on the bed while trembling like a leaf.
I really like the negotiation, I look forward to the continuation.
 

Doragon

Magistrate

Chapter 3: First Day, morning​

(Part 1)

Much to her surprise she was left alone the whole night. They had given her something to eat just before dark, a rich meal with lots of calories and vitamins to support her body for the days ahead, as they told her. She ate sparsely, too nervous to eat or care about anything. She mostly spent the night on the bed, in her clothes, lying awake and trying hard to come to terms with the fact that all her future plans were gone. Her life was ending and she had the prospect of terrible things in her final days. Three times she vomited from pure anxiety in the same bucket she also had to use to relieve herself. The next morning she felt like a nervous wreck.

In the morning two women in niqab came to her cell with breakfast, a bowl of water, wash cloths and various creams and oils. They only spoke Arabic and Alisa could not understand them, so they had to use gestures to communicate. Alisa understood she was supposed to undress so they could wash her body. She was not supposed to do this herself. She complied but with a heavy heart.
The women were talking amongst themselves while she took off her garments, a long skirt with a buttoned shirt on top. Her shoes were already under the bed. She took them off and folded them, expecting to put them back on after washing. However, the women took them from her, also her shoes, which made her feel uncomfortable. She also felt it was weird that the women were talking about her underwear, pointing at the fine textures of her bra and panties. Didn’t they have such underwear in Islamic State?
Alisa frowned when one of the women took out a smartphone and wanted to take a picture. Not seeing any harm in that Alisa sat down on the chair and let them photograph her. She doubted they would put it on facebook. When done she took off her bra and held it out to them since they had taken her other clothes as well, but the women absolutely refused to even touch the garment. She frowned while dropping it on the bed and while she took off her panties, she remembered how she bought those. Coco the Mer in London. She sighed and shook her head. Why the hell did she take lingerie with her to Syria? Girl, you sometimes make horrible decisions.

Alisa underwear.jpg

While they were washing her, starting with her arms, the door opened again and the two guards entered, followed by the judge. Alisa quickly covered herself, but the men chuckled and shook their heads.

“That’s pointless,” said Mahdi. “Everybody is going to see you naked in about an hour anyways.”

Alisa felt a shiver running down her spine but dropped her arms, revealing herself. Her face was red when she saw the eyes of the men running over her naked body, especially her breasts and the patch of hair on her pubic mound. The women continued washing her body, making Alisa blush even more. When they dried her off, they started rubbing cream on her body, starting at her back. In the meantime they were talking to her, but of course she didn’t understand what they were saying. She looked at Mahdi who translated for her.

“They are praising you for your smooth skin and they are assuring you that the cream will help against the whips, preventing your skin to break too much.” He grinned. “They are wrong of course.”

Alisa felt her stomach cringe at the mention of the whips and possible skin breaking. She feared the pain that was in store for her. But she also had a kind of acceptance after a whole night of worrying. There was nothing she could do so maybe it would be easier if she just went along with things. There was also some defiance in her. She didn’t want to give in to these bastards. And maybe if she showed them how courageous she was they might respect her more.
The two women also rubbed cream on her breasts, which made Alisa blush a deeper shade of red and she just wished the men were not here to watch her. The women spoke to her again and Mahdi translated “They are complimenting you on your magnificent breasts, saying you could feed many children.” Alisa shivered. Not many children were there for her in her future, she thought grimly. In the past she had postponed thinking about having children. Also because she never met the man who she liked enough to have offspring with. Now it was too late for all that. Suddenly she cringed and her train of thought stopped when the women pinched her nipples and commented, according to Mahdi, on how sensitive and responsive her nipples were.

They gave her some bread to eat with cheese and herbs. They also gave her a kind of tea which was strong, intended to revive her after her long night. And all the time the men waited, leaning against the wall and the post of the open door. The hallway behind was empty and dark. Nobody spoke. Alisa ate and drank in silence as well, seated on the wobbly chair.

Finally they gave her a few pills to swallow. She asked what they were, and Mahdi explained they were stimulants to keep her alert and also antibiotics to strengthen her system against potential infections. Ironic, she thought. She was going to die and they were worried about her health? She didn’t want to take the pills, but they insisted and with a sigh she swallowed all six pills with sips of water.

In the end they made her use the bucket while they were all standing there in the small room, not granting her any privacy. She urinated and blushed as she involuntarily broke wind as well, causing the two women to giggle. When they were finally done, the woman that had taken a picture earlier, wanted to take another one and Mahdi didn’t protest. Alisa was not happy about this but also didn’t protest and she was photographed naked. She blushed as she saw Mahdi smirk.

Alisa nude photo.jpg

Alisa got a thin shirt to put on, a bit angry they had not given that to her before she sat down to eat breakfast. But it barely covered her body. It did close right up to her neck at the top, but at the bottom it reached only just below her crotch. She was not allowed to put her underwear back on. She shivered and looking down she noticed that her nipples had hardened and they were clearly visible in the fabric. Well, nothing she could do about that, she sighed. Alisa straightened herself, working up her courage and walked out, flanked by the two guards. They guided her through the dark hallways towards the big doors at the front of the building, followed by the judge, leaving the two women behind.
 
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Doragon

Magistrate

Chapter 3: First Day, morning​

(Part 2)

Outside the sun was shining brightly and although it was still early, it was already warm. Alisa blinked against the sunlight and had a hard time seeing where she was. She welcomed the warmth on her shivering body.

As they walked forward, leaving the courtyard of the old school, she noticed how they reached a large square in front of the building, with a raised platform in the centre. She had missed all that when she was brought here during the night two days ago. All around a crowd was gathering and the noise of all those people talking loudly, was quite overwhelming after her dark and silent night in solitude. Alisa felt her heart sink as she approached the wooden stage in the middle, where two people with camera and a microphone fishing rod were waiting for them. As they started climbing the steps of the platform, she noticed four poles raised on the stage in a line and suddenly she felt her knees buckle. This was it, there really was no way out for her anymore. And she realized that up to this point she had somehow clung to a kind of hope that somebody would rescue her in time. That maybe the judge himself would suddenly laugh at her, saying it was all a joke. But one glance at the table with the whips and she knew this was no joke. A man stood by with a black hood covering his face. The executioner. He was large, bulky, stomach like a barrel, arms like trees. And he had two helpers, two young men, maybe her age, with uncovered upper bodies, tanned skin and stringy build. They took Alisa from the two guards, who stepped back to keep anyone from climbing the stairs to the platform. Alisa was guided forward while looking around to see where the others were. They were not in sight and she suddenly also felt abandoned, hopelessly lost. As she was placed between the two large poles, she looked up to the skies, hoping to see a chopper or airplane coming to her rescue, but there was no salvation.

Mahdi came up on the platform as well with a megaphone in his hand and he started to speak to the gathering crowd. She couldn’t understand a word he was saying, but the cheers he got from the crowd, were sending chills down her spine.

The two helpers raised her arms sideways and started to tie ropes around her wrists. The ropes were pulled towards the poles, attached to large rings embedded into the wood. The ropes pulled her arms outstretched sideways. As if she was being crucified in mid-air. She whimpered when the ropes were pulled even tighter, leaving little room for her to manoeuvre. She was able to squirm though, undoubtedly something the crowd wanted to see. They tied ropes around her ankles and made her spread her legs. The ropes were attached to the bottom of the posts to keep her spread open. Alisa shivered and felt her teeth chattering. Looking around she saw many men leering at her, undoubtedly staring at her crotch, which could be seen in the shadow under her short shirt. People were cheering as the speech of Mahdi continued. A black flag was being waved. There were also women, all wearing niqabs, appearing to be just as eager as the men to watch the spectacle.

Suddenly there were louder cheers and Alisa heard sounds behind her. Charles and William were brought to the platform and positioned left and right of her. Both were completely naked and tied to the two outer posts. Alisa could see them if she looked sideways, Charles to her left and William to her right, both facing her. They both looked worn as they clearly had been beaten. Charles had a black eye, William a split lip and both of them had bruises all over. Alisa felt sorry for them and realized she had actually been well looked after.

The cameraman and his helper walked around the platform, filming her and her two friends, trying to remain invisible while registering everything. It made her feel exposed, but she hoped someday somebody would see the injustice that was done to her and hopefully her tormentors would then pay for this. She tried to stay in touch with that angry and vengeful thought, feeling it might never happen if she lost that little hope she had.

The sun was warm, even though it was still early. Alisa blinked against the bright light, though her eyes were adjusted, but it was simply too bright in the sun. She also noticed how there was a slight breeze, caressing the skin on her arms, legs and face. The breeze was also playing with her shirt, barely covering her bottom, tickling her mound and tugging against her nipples. Her skin was riddled with goose bumps, while at the same time a trickle of sweat ran down her temples. She wondered how she could register all this so clearly. Somehow, she felt her senses were heightened and she wondered if the pills had anything to do with that. Was she drugged or something?

Mahdi came behind her with a knife and she cringed. But he didn’t cut her, he cut the shirt she was wearing. With a gasp she felt him cutting the entire back open and then also the arms. The cloth fell from her front onto the deck of the stage and her heart missed a beat when she was suddenly naked, fully exposed to the crowd that was already growing to a few hundred people. The men shouted and jeered. The women ululated, a most dreadful sound. In a way she had hoped women would protest her fate, but these women were cheering, as if they looked forward to her ordeals.

The camera man walked around her, filming her from every angle. Alisa cringed when she heard a few rifles fire into the air on the far side of the square. Were they her rescuers? No, it was the crowd celebrating her fate. With every shot she trembled, her breasts delicately wobbling with the tremors of her fear.

The people who jeered at her looked terrifying. What were they seeing, she wondered? Back home people would have considered her pretty. She had a lean body and large breasts. She wasn’t tall, some considered her small, but her face was at normal height she thought. It was everybody else that was simply taller than her. She shivered as the cold breeze now had free play on her skin. She could feel her nipples tightening and growing harder. The small patch on her pubic mound tickled as the wind played with the little hairs.
 

Doragon

Magistrate

Chapter 3: First Day, morning​

(part 3)

To make matters worse Mahdi took position behind her naked body and reached around her, placing one hand on a breast and the other on her pubic mound. He rubbed his hands over her naked skin. His hands felt cold, and she felt him smearing something on her. With a whimper she looked down and saw how he was putting lubricant or oil on her breasts and vulva. His fingers were slipping around and over her sex and then slipping between her lips, rubbing her clitoris and the tight opening to her vagina. She cringed and wriggled her body, desperately trying to evade the probing fingers. Her breasts were both oiled by his other hand and he also pinched her nipples, causing them to become even more erect. With a whimper she squirmed, involuntarily rubbing her naked buttocks against Mahdi and sensing how he was pressing himself against her, a clear erection in his trousers. Was he going to publicly rape her? She quickly glanced at Charles and held her breath when she saw how he had a clear and present erection as well, though he was blushing in shame and tried not to look at her naked body. Turning her head the other way, she noticed William was in a similar state. Had they given the men Viagra or something? Or was this scene arousing them? They had never seen her naked before. Maybe they were simply aroused by her features.

Alisa groaned as her hips got pushed forward by Mahdi, while he used both hands to pull her vulva wide open so everybody could see her slit fully revealed with her hips obscenely tilted forward.
“Please,” she groaned while blushing in shame. The crowd jeered loudly at her and a word was repeated again and again: eahira! She also heard some people shouting ‘whore!’
Mahdi spoke with his mouth close to her ear, sending shivers down her spine.
“Show them what a whore you are,” he whispered softly. She winced and suddenly snapped at him. “Let go of me, bastard,” she hissed. He chuckled and his fingers moved to hold her slit wide open while rubbing around and over her clitoris. Alisa gasped and groaned as she felt a sudden lust in her body. She held her breath in surprise and squirmed. She regretted snapping at him and tried begging instead, pleading softly “Pl…please….don’t do that.”
Tears were welling up in her eyes when he didn’t stop at all. He even increased his efforts and she whimpered when she felt her vagina responding to the stimulation. The pills they gave her had brought her into such a responsive state, she was certain of it, because normally she was never so easily aroused. Besides, she could not imagine getting aroused in public like this, if not caused by chemical means. Fuck all that, this isn’t happening!
Mahdi felt how she tried to resist and he kept masturbating her by fingering her clit, dipping his fingers in her vagina and even rub around her urethra. Alisa felt her knees buckle and she squirmed against her will. She wanted to escape the fingers and yet she sometimes moved her pelvis to meet them. Her groaning got louder as the arousal got higher and higher. Again she begged him to stop. He continued without mercy.

A groan was heard to her left and with red blushes on her cheeks she glanced sideways at Charles and gasped when she saw how one of the young assistants of the executioner was milking him. His erection was jerked by his strong hand glistening with lubricant, the fingers moving over and around the shining glans. Alisa was weirdly fascinated by the sight of a man being professionally jerked off by another man and she felt her own lust surge at the sight. She quickly looked the other way, only to notice how William was also being masturbated by the other assistant. Both Charles and William were staring at her, focusing on her squirming naked body that was being fondled and masturbated by Mahdi the judge. Anything to escape the fact they were being jerked off by men. Or maybe it was really arousing them.

Neither of them would ever have considered it possible to be forcibly masturbated in public and achieve an orgasm, but they reached their peak almost at the same time. Alisa visibly trembled and froze. Her arms tightened against the ropes that held her in place. Her body went through the inner contractions of her orgasm. Her vagina was splayed open by her tormentor to allow her juices to spray forward. Then she jerked with her body, as if being shocked, and finally she gasped, breathing heavily while the orgasm slowly ebbed away. The camera caught it all and the microphone held above her also caught her gasps.
Both Charles and William also had orgasms. They didn’t make much sound and were enduring it with gritted teeth and clenched fists. The young men jerking them off held plastic cups over their erupting cocks, catching the semen. The camera filmed that too.

Moments later all three of them were left standing, panting, trembling, blushing bright red for the shameful situation they had been put in. It had been utterly humiliating, and it was far from over. The two assistants came over to Alisa. She watched them holding up the cups to her and she desperately shook her head. Mahdi stepped up behind her and grabbed her chin with one hand while her closed her nostrils with the other. As she opened her mouth for a gasp of air, the men poured the semen of Charles and William into her mouth. Alisa wailed and cried out in utter shame and disgust. Mahdi held a hand over her mouth and told her to swallow. She winced as the bitter salty liquid slid down her throat and she convulsed with disgust, causing her body to writhe. Of course the crowd interpreted her convulsions as another orgasm and they started throwing rotten fruit at her and at the two men. They also threw pebbles at them, which really hurt where they hit and both Alisa, Charles and William were grunting and crying out in humiliation and pain.
 

Doragon

Magistrate

Chapter 3: First Day, morning​

(Part 4 of 5)

After that little show, which none of them had been prepared for, Mahdi stepped back from the woman and the executioner approached carrying his whip. Alisa whimpered while looking over her shoulder. The bull whip unfolded and showed it had a length of two meters. The dark leather strips had been woven together forming a single strand that grew thin towards the end, with a cord sticking out of the tip. The executioner took a practice swing into the air and the leather curled, the tip flicked and then there was a sharp cracking sound as the tip of the whip broke the sound barrier.

“Oh no,” whimpered Alisa, already feeling how her knees were buckling and she was trembling all over. Her resolve was now completely gone. Sweat was forming on her brow as the sun was merciless shining down on her. She felt the warm wood under her naked feet. She looked sideways to William and was surprised to see him have a new erection. Turning her head, she noticed how Charles also had one. Was this drug related? Both men were looking at her naked body and the executioner with the whip behind her. Was this arousing them? She was puzzled and confused. She felt betrayed. Then she also noticed how her vagina twitched and clenched up. She too was still aroused. But how? Was fear affecting her like this?

The megaphone activated and Mahdi’s voice sounded across the square, first in Arabic, then in English. “The whore will receive her first set of twelve blows. Pray that she will regret her ways. May Allah forgive her. Allah is great.”

The moment the whip hit her across the shoulders, Alisa felt stunned and dazed. A moment later the blow registered to her nerves and muscles and she gritted her teeth while the pain of the lash sank in. Immediately a second stroke hit her, just below the first, though that was hard for her to distinguish. To her it felt like it was on the exact same spot and she feared that if he kept hitting her in the same spot, her skin would break and she would start bleeding, scarred for life. She whimpered, bracing herself for another lash, when the pain of it overwhelmed her, and she felt herself stumble while gasping in horror. She had never imagined it would be this painful. The ropes held her upright, but she was hardly capable to stay up because of the flashes of red pain tearing through her shoulders and blow after blow the whip lashed on her back, tearing bright red welts on her unblemished skin. The camera took close-up shots of the whip hitting her. The crowd watched in complete silence as the whip kept cracking on her shoulders, hard and merciless. After eight strokes she finally couldn’t stand it anymore and she screamed her heart out in pure agony. The crowd then also broke silence and started cheering loudly, happy with the fact she had been broken.

With that first scream something had indeed been broken in Alisa. She had finally given in to her despair. There was no salvation, nothing she could do, and she could not even endure her punishment in silence. It was impossible to bear the pain of the strokes, just as impossible as it was for her to escape any of this. Something broke in her, with the sound of screaming, her will was shattering.

The megaphone announced the second series of blows, once more twelve to her back. Both Charles and William now started to protest, telling them to stop, telling them she had enough. They were both punched in the stomach by the assistants until they shut up. The whip started cracking and Alisa was dancing, screaming and crying as she received another twelve strokes to her back, each time a bit lower, covering her back with the bright red welts from her shoulder to her lower back. Her whole back felt like it was ablaze, on fire, torn open.

“Fire on her ass,” said the voice of Mahdi then through the megaphone when it was time for the third series. The whip cracked on her round buttocks and she screamed in agony, pushing her hips obscenely forward to try and avoid the blows. The crowd got a great view of her dancing body, her opened crotch, her hips pushing forward as if she was presenting them her vagina again and again.
“Whore!” they shouted at her in response.
Alisa cried and sobbed, her backside ablaze, tears streaming down her face, sweat covering her whole body. In despair she made the mistake to look at Charles again, as if trying to find some support there, only to see him being masturbated again by one of the assistants, who was jerking his penis with one hand, while using the other to finger his ass. But the thing that pierced Alisa to her soul was not the fact that he was again being masturbated, but the fact that he was gazing at her naked body dancing on the blows of the whip. How could he have an erection while watching her anguish? And then he even had another orgasm. She felt so betrayed. And with William it was the same thing, also being masturbated both ways while staring with lust in his eyes at her tortured body. Alisa screamed in despair, sinking through her knees and hanging by her outstretched arms.
 
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