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Greetings, all. This is my first posting on this or any site except Discord, though I’ve lurked for a great many years enjoying the art and writing of other creators. But at the insistence and encouragement of a few new friends (Mp5stab, Baron Von Sade, I’m looking at you two in particular), I’ve decided to try my hand at posting a few stories. This is the first one, possibly of many. Or possibly I’ll go back to lurking happily and avoiding the attention. :-P Without further ado….


(Warnings: Impaling, torture, pleasure torture in the form of denial, one sadistic mofo of an executioner.)

It was unfortunate, really, to waste such beauties. Oh, the doomed slaves in the executioner’s chamber today weren’t innocent of crimes of course. But these women didn’t seem the kind who would commit the level of offense against the Empire that would warrant a unique execution of this sort. Then again, considering the usual dispatch of the condemned under his sovereign’s rule was crucifixion, the executioner decided perhaps she was being lenient with them.

They were both to be impaled on one spit, she had ordered him—ass-to-mouth. He could do as he wished with them after the rod was securely thrust through their bodies, but he was not to ease their suffering in any way. Good thing he had some ideas…

He lined the slaves up, placing the brunette in the back with her face pointed directly at the plump little backside of the redhead in front of her. Both women were bound securely with their backs straight—heads up, poised on their hands and knees like a couple of show ponies—one in front of the other. Then he took the time and care to properly lubricate their tight little holes and open them up for the spit.

Gods, that was such a hard job, but someone had to do it…. The man grinned at the memory of their sodomized holes squeezing around his cock and the pitiful moans that had come from both of them by the time he’d finished.

Then with great skill, he had slowly impaled them.

He did the brunette first, listening to her delightful screams as he carefully pushed the rod into her ass and through her body in such a way that it caused minimal damage—the pressure of the spit keeping the internal bleeding from ending her before she’d get to spend a few hours in exquisite misery.

He’d kept a particular eye on the redhead as he did his work, amused by the fear on her face. She could hear the screams, gurgles, and rather gory, wet tearing sounds coming from the woman suffering behind her, but she couldn’t turn her head to see what was happening. The poor girl was sobbing and babbling pointless pleas for him to just slit her throat and spare her from her fate by the time the spit emerged from the first one’s lips.

He’d paused then, letting both women adjust—each in their own separate world of misery. They’d be in the same pain soon enough.

The brunette choked and gagged beautifully, moaning as well as she could around the thick pole sticking out of her throat. The redhead heard all of this and continued to sob, unable to see when he slowly began to move the spit forward again toward her awaiting ass hole.

The brunette suffered greatly as the rod continued to move through her body and closer to the empty hole of her companion. The woman shuddered and choked, gagging as each inch passed slowly through her entire torso. She could only watch in horror and pain as the tip of the spit slipped into her whimpering friend and gradually disappeared, starting the redhead on the road toward joining her in the agony of impalement.

Then the redhead began to scream and jerk around in spasms of pain as the tip slid deep into her body and moved inevitably toward her throat and open mouth. The executioner took his sweet time, stopping occasionally to make sure both women were still awake—waving salts under their noses if they’d passed out from pain or shock. No sense continuing if they weren’t conscious to enjoy the fruits of his labor, of course.

Finally the spit emerged from the redhead’s lips as they had her companion’s and the two of them were joined as one in suffering—linked together by the pole imbedded in their asses and mouths, both of them writhing around like two fish speared on the same rod.

The executioner fixed the spit in place and took a long moment to enjoy his work, smiling sadistically at the two women as they jerked and shuddered, choked and moaned, tears streaming down their cheeks as they suffered.

With them impaled so perfectly, the executioner set about pulling the slaves’ hair back tightly to get it out of his way. He would need access to every inch of their perfect, pale skin to inflict upon them the torments he had planned.

The redhead he gave a bun—twisted and pulled tightly around itself before he pinned it in place with a nail he’d retrieved from his satchel. Then, trailing his fingers down the trembling woman’s spine, he moved to the brunette.

For her dark tresses he had a better plan. Gathering it all at the back of her head, he bound it into a ponytail with one end of a long stretch of rope—knotting it tightly before letting the loose strands of her hair hang down over her quivering shoulder to the floor. Then he stepped back, yanking harshly on the rope and enjoying the muffled whimpers of pain this elicited from his victim as the motion pulled at her scalp and forced her to writhe on the rod, bringing fresh pain to her torn insides.

Keeping the rope snug, he stepped up near the redhead again and wrapped the other end of the rope around the nail-pierced bun, pulling her head back as harshly as he could manage. Making sure the tension on both women’s hair was tight enough to cause considerable strain on both of their impaled throats, he tied a snug knot and stepped back to admire the sight of the two suffering girls.

It was ingenious really, he congratulated himself. Each woman would choke as the pole would press deeper into her throat and she would try to adjust her head to relieve the tension pulling her into this position. But her movements would tug not only her own bound hair, but that of her companion—pressing the other woman’s throat into the pole in the process. Each of them would struggle, tormenting the other. He smiled proudly at his success, watching the women gag and writhe for a long moment as they adjusted to his cruel scheme.

Then with a satisfied nod, the man got down to his real work.

“I had very strict orders,” he told them merrily. “I’m not to ease your suffering. But I’m afraid My Lady wasn’t specific on how much I could add to it.”

The muffled moans increased in volume as he spoke, and he grinned—moving to a table nearby with the items he needed lying on it. Without another word to them, he picked up the cane and the ingenious little stimulating vibrator and began using the items on them one at a time.

First, he caned the redhead, letting the brunette watch as he very, very lightly tapped the other woman’s full, luscious bottom. He started slow; gentle, not even marking the skin as he tapped it carefully up and down their bodies, letting each woman react to the sights and sounds of the attention he was showing the other…letting them anticipate it happening to themselves before switching and giving them their turn. Each woman jerked and twisted, jarring the other through the pole and through their bound hair—expanding their shared torment.

After a moment with the cane, he tucked it under his arm and knelt down, the little vibrating stone warm in his palm. The object was made of some sort of special material—one that reacted when used in close proximity to metal objects (such as that which was thrust through both of his squirming victims). If brought close to certain metals, the little stone would begin to vibrate steadily, providing many uses before the stone’s energy would deplete. This particular stone he used first on the redhead.

He leaned forward, pressing the little vibrating stone to the sex of the woman in front. He grinned in delight as she jerked forward, sending a tremor of agony through the pole and into her friend, even as the movement tore at her own tender insides. He kept the vibrator pressed to the woman’s clit until her moans became regular and pleading, then immediately stepped away—leaving her slit weeping with arousal and twitching with disappointment.

She wouldn’t be allowed to come. Neither of these condemned wenches would do any coming today. They’d only be going. As was his sovereign’s orders.

The executioner chuckled at his own private joke and pressed the vibrator to the brunette’s clit, bringing her to the same frustrating edge he’d left the redhead teetering on. He waited until she adjusted to the surprise assault of the vibrations and then reached up to yank hard on her bound hair, causing both women to gag and whimper at the extra pressure on their throats and the pain in their scalps.

Once he had them both dripping wet and crying in frustration and pain, he swapped to the cane again. He hit them harder this time, just enough to leave lovely pink marks up and down their backs and bottoms, occasionally bending down to lay a few strokes on their dangling tits.

Over and over he switched tactics—caning for a while, then stimulating their sexes for a while, yanking the rope binding their hair for good measure—never letting them reach orgasm, but keeping them on the edge until they writhed and screamed around the spit in anguish. As their arousal was stoked higher, his strikes with the cane grew more brutal—first turning their pretty pale backs and asses pink, then red, then raising welts, until finally each perfectly delivered strike brought a small streak of blood with it, marking their fair skin with fresh beads of crimson that dripped down to mingle with their sweat.

The process of killing them took hours. By the time he was done, the executioner had another raging hard-on and a cramp in his back from bending down to apply the vibrator. But eventually—succumbing to shock, exhaustion, internal trauma, and blood loss—both beauties slumped in death, only the unyielding length of the spit keeping them up on their knees.

What fun they’d been, whimpering and crying as he’d alternately caned and stimulated them. He’d been careful, and he was certain neither girl had achieved orgasm before she’d died.

Both had gone a little mad near the end and that had been fun, too. The one in the back had watched hungrily as he tormented the one in front, animalistic noises gurgling out around the spit in her mouth. Then as he’d tortured the brunette in back, the redhead in front would whine and shimmy around the pole wedged in her ass, her cunt contracting around empty nothing as she silently begged him to return his attentions to her.

The executioner sat back in his chair with a groan and gripped his cock, stroking languidly as he relaxed and surveyed their bodies. The redhead’s eyes were still open wide, frozen forever in an expression of pained arousal. The brunette looked utterly broken, her eyes rolled back and her tongue protruding slightly around the thick spit. Blood from the whip marks and slick wetness from the dead slaves’ pussies dripped slowly onto the floor, pooling beneath their limp bodies. They were making a mess, but he hardly cared. That would be dealt with in a moment.

The executioner grunted out a moan as he reached his own orgasm, letting his movements slow after a long moment. Then he rose, moving to release the women’s hair from the knots of rope so that rivers of dark and red tresses could cascade in shining ribbons over their still forms.


As he looked over his work, the executioner sighed in satisfaction, catching his breath. He hoped the Lady had witnessed his fine job from the peepholes he knew she kept in the walls in order to watch him do his work on her condemned prisoners. If she hadn’t, she’d missed one hell of a show~~
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Amazing story, if there was a full background story i would have added it on my fav list! Well done mate!
I'm totally with you on this, myself. Normally I would have added more backstory and given the victims more character development (the victim side is typically my focus in my writing). This was sort of an off-the-cuff idea, though, and it ended up just being all about the Executioner. Kind of a change from my normal, and I'm not sure where it all came from, lol. But I figured for a first foray into public posting, it was...passable. xD

Thank you all for the very kind comments! :)


I'm totally with you on this, myself. Normally I would have added more backstory and given the victims more character development (the victim side is typically my focus in my writing). This was sort of an off-the-cuff idea, though, and it ended up just being all about the Executioner. Kind of a change from my normal, and I'm not sure where it all came from, lol. But I figured for a first foray into public posting, it was...passable. xD

Thank you all for the very kind comments! :)
Go on, that was amazing, I am looking forward to your next stories :)
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