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Review This Story || Author: Jill Crokett

Execution of the Terrorist Housewives

Part 17

Chapter 16 Execution of the Terrorist Housewives

 

Chapter 17  Execution of the Terrorist Housewives

from the pen of award winning S&M imaginist

Jill Crokett

author’s note: All names used in this story are fictitious, even the author’s nom de plume. Any names used of real persons is purely coincidental. Readers my contact Ms. Crokett at jcrokett@yahoo.com with their comments.

 

 

All eyes in the witness gallery stared at the huge tits of the now  topless Diane Howell. Her elbows pointed out to each side as the forty-something woman reluctantly but obediently slid her one-piece bathing suit down past her waist to her wide hips.  As hundreds of men and women in the gallery watched she then bent forward with her hands at her waist and tugged the dark blue elastic fabric over her hips and buttocks, pulling the swimsuit to her knees.  Her pendulous breasts jiggled for the crowd as she bent forward, slightly bending her knees to pull the tight swimsuit down off her butt. From there Diane let it drop to her ankles. 

 

Tears glistened down Diane’s cheeks and dripped onto her melons as she straightened up and slowly but obediently raised her arms above her head in the required surrender position. Diane had no idea what Warden Anne Bowden had in store for her, but she was committed to being as obedient and cooperative as possible in exchange for the leniency she hoped would be extended to her daughter.  The thought of  Tracy, her only child, being skinned alive before her eyes was more than she could bare.

 

Anne Bowden let an uncomfortable silence fill the execution auditorium before she spoke again, letting the men in the gallery linger their gaze on the melon tits and smooth girl-crack of Diane Howell as the condemned mom stood naked facing them.  When she finally spoke, the female warden did not mince words.

 

"Mrs. Howell, you have been condemned in a court of law to receive severe corporal punishment, followed by death by live evisceration.  To begin your corporal punishment, it is my decision that you are first going to be spanked on the bare buttocks with a paddle, then strapped across your buttocks, thighs, and labia with a short leather belt.  During this punishment you will be ordered to assume a specific bodily position for your corporal strapping.  Mrs. Howell, if you fail to hold this position as instructed, I will order these African tribesmen here to immediately skin your daughter Tracy alive, do you understand?"

 

Diane glanced at the three muscular, masculine forms, then turned back towards Bowden and nodded in compliance.  As she nodded her response she began to sob quietly, fearing she would not be able to comply with the warden’s demands.  Not wishing to cry aloud in front of her daughter, Diane attempted to suppress her sobbing, and as she did, her huge matronly breasts jiggled lightly as tears dripped down and splattered upon them.  To the privileged members of the witness gallery, it was a sight of pure submission.

 

"After you receive the paddle and belt Mrs. Howell, you will be raped by these warrior tribesmen.  You'll be instructed as to the positions you will assume during your rape, and if you don't comply proficiently, my offer of leniency for your daughter Tracy will be immediately rescinded. Do you understand?"

 

Once again Diane responded with only a nod as she continued to face the gallery naked, her swimsuit still around her ankles.

 

Bill Schnell couldn't help but feel a swelling in his crotch as he stared out from the gallery at Diane Howell in the spotlight, her arms raised, the tears coming down her cheeks, the bright lights shadowing the girl-like deep, dark crack of the mature mom’s bald pussy.

 

Drawing attention to a small red circle painted on the concrete floor of the gymnasium, Warden Bowden pointed and instructed Diane to stand inside.  The circle was less than a meter in diameter.  Keeping her arms up, Diane looked down and stepped out of the swimsuit, gently kicking it off her ankles.  She obediently walked completely nude over to the circle and took her place in it, all the while keeping her arms raised. 

 

The warden carefully and specifically instructed Diane to place her feet about a half meter apart, and then ordered her to bend over and grab her ankles, telling the woman to slightly bend her knees as she bent over and assumed “the paddle” position.  Forty-something Diane Howell looked rather awkward assuming this position which reminded Bill of the “center” position on an American football team.  The only difference was this center was an attractive middle-aged mom who was completely naked.

 

"Mrs. Howell" Warden Bowden announced, "if you step out of this circle more than once, or if you let go of your ankles more than once, my offer is rescinded in Tracy is skinned alive. There will be only one warning.  Do you understand, Mrs. Howell?"

 

"Yes ma'am, I’ll obey warden, please, please don't do that her" Diane sobbed from her strange position as tears dripped down on the red spot.  “Save your tears bitch, you’ll need them” the warden mumbled back to Diane under her breath.   

 

As Diane gripped her ankles tightly, an execution assistant handed Warden Bowden a thick, smooth wooden paddle, longer and slightly wider than a ping-pong paddle.

 

“For the first ten stokes, with each stoke you will count aloud and thank me, do you understand Mrs. Howell?”

 

“Yes, ma’am” was Diane’s meek reply.

 

The first smack of the paddle was loud, and Diane recounted with “One, thank you ma’am.”

 

By the sixth Diane was crying aloud constantly, but did not step out or release her ankle grip.  By ten her butt was beet red and she exclaimed “Ten!, aaahhhh, thaaannnk yooou maaaaam.”

 

After the tenth pop with the hardwood paddle Bowden announced the next ten strokes of the hardwood paddle would be rapid, with no counting.

 

“Pop, Pop, Pop, Pop, Pop” sounded off as the female warden let loose on Diane’s wide, bare bottom. The mom screeched aloud and her breasts danced as she bent forward and gripped her ankles, her bottom protruding behind her.  At the 20th stroke Diane pissed herself as a small yellow stream splattered on the floor. She then bend her knees and further squatted to the floor, but despite the burning of her butt cheeks, Diane hands continue to gripped her ankles. “No” she exclaimed, “No, no more, I, I can’t, AAAAAAAhhhhhh.” From her head forward position, Diane tears continued to splatter directly onto the concrete floor.

 

A female assistant stepped into the lights and handed Warden Bowden a narrow, short leather strap, exchanging it for the wooden paddle.  To those few in the gallery who were familiar with prison punishment, it was immediately identifiable as the Canadian Strap, a 19th-century implement a punishment that had become infamous in that country's prison system.  Less than a half meter long, the Canadian strap looked like a narrower, shorter version of a barber’s strop, consisting of only 13 or 14 inches of leather, the remaining five or so inches being its wooden handle. The 2 inch wide strap had a series of five or six small holes punched in it. 

 

Though they had been amused by the female warden's administration of the paddle, several of the wives in the gallery were surprised to see Anne Bowden assume administration of Mrs. Howell's belt strapping herself.  Little did they know that before she was promoted to Warden of the women's facility, Anne Bowden had whipped and strapped many a prisoner to tears as Assistant Warden of the male prison nearby.  She had been infamously legendary at the men's facility where she had developed "the wet line", a procedure where she ball-strapped men with a belt as they exited the communal showers naked and dripping wet. 

 

Upon being appointed Warden of the women's facility, Anne Bowden had raised the ante of creative cruelty by often having female convicted murderers receive a strapping of their shaved vulva before being put to death.  The first execution she supervised after being appointed Warden there was that of two sisters, older women in their fifties, who had been convicted of poisoning their husbands in a scheme to obtain insurance money.  Bowden had both the women stripped in front of the large gathering of employees.  She then had them both strapped-down to execution tables with their ankles up behind their necks with their knees strapped open wide to each side of them.  Then, in front of all her employees Bowden personally shaved each of the sisters’ bare one at a time, then proceeded to strap each woman's pussy with a belt 100 times. After she was finished she turned to the gallery and said "that's the way it's going to be done around here from now on," then turned and, as she walked out of the gallery, said " now hang them."

 

Anne Bowden laid the first crack of the cruel Canadian Strap squarely across Diane Howell's wide butt cheeks.  Diane elicited a screech but held her ankles.  Bowden came back with rapid fire strappings of the belt across Diane's butt, to the point where she again released her bladder.  Diane screamed every imaginable exclamation but did not let go as the warden worked her red, blistering butt cheeks.  Diane continued to bend forward, gripping her ankles with every ounce of energy. After about 25 strokes Warden Bowden moved slightly to adjust the angle of the strap.  In a sheer act of cruelty  she began working Diane's feminine crack with the strap, drawing a narrow leather belt up between her legs, squarely landing the narrow leather against the 44-year-old’s labia.

 

"No ma'am, please no, pleeeeasse” teary-eyed Diane pleaded.  “No, no, I can take it anymore, not there, not my pussy, please" Diane screeched and sobbed in vain as the hundreds in the gallery stared in disbelief.

 

After about 40 strokes Bowden handed the Canadian Strap to an assistant, exchanging it for a short, four foot long bullwhip.

 

"No ma'am, please, I can not take that, not there, not my pussy warden, please, please have mercy on me."

 

Without hesitation Warden Bowden reached back with her arm and quickly snapped the lash of the bullwhip forward, slicing it up between Diane Howell's blistered red butt cheeks to cruelly whip her feminine crack.  With that first loud snapping stroke of the whip, Diane fell to the floor, crumbling her form to stay within the red painted circle, but releasing her hands to grasp her lashed pussy as she fell.  Anne Bowden stopped the whipping and let her lay crumbled on the floor for a moment, sobbed for gasps of breath as the witnesses stared in awe.  In the background Tracy sobbed through tears "please no ma'am, please let my mother be, I will do anything you say, just please, please don’t whip her anymore, not there, not there."

 

"This is your first warning Mrs. Howell” Anne Bowden announced in a formal voice, adding cruelly, “you will only receive one more before we skin Tracy Howell alive."

 

Diane very slowly and reluctantly climbed back on her feet and re-assumed the position, her buttock slowly rising above the level of her head as she reluctantly reached down and again gripped her spread ankles.  The warden stepped back, the whip still in hand, and with a nod signaled for one of the now fully erect African warriors to step forward. As he entered the spotlight the women of the audience were first given a full view of his massive erect dick.  Without hesitation the naked, war-painted warrior aligned his cock with the sex of the bend over condemned woman and grasped her waist.  As a naked, sobbing and distraught Tracy Howell watched, the muscular black rapist entered her mother deeply and completely with a single thrust of his pelvis.  

 

In the gallery, Karen Schnell's pussy dripped as she watched the mature mom get raped in this standing doggie position.  She thought of how it would feel if her own husband Bill’s cock penetrated her as she bent her knees slightly and I reached down and gripped her ankles. Her own pussy ached for a big hard cock, and for a brief moment she was actually jealous of Diane Howell.

 

Diane moaned aloud as the African’s long, huge black cock rapidly slammed over and over again against her cervix.  The gallery could clearly hear the moist slapping sound of the warrior’s pelvis against Diane was blistered buttocks. Beyond humiliation, Diane Howell did not resist as each of the four Africans took their turned with her pussy.  She obediently kept her knees apart and bent, and with her hair nearly touching the ground she stooped forward to firmly grip her ankles as the men grabbed her waist and slammed themselves deep inside her vagina.

 

Karen Schnell reached up with closed fingers to cover her opened mouth as a slight gasp went up from the gallery the very moment the fourth warrior took his position behind Diane.  The fourth and last rapist had the hugest erect cock Karen, and surely many of the other witnesses, had ever seen.  Diane Howell moaned aloud as the last, and most endowed, African warrior entered her from behind.  At this point three other loads of cum had already lubricated Diane's now very sore pussy, but nonetheless it still was a very tight fit.

 

"No, it's too big, no, no, it's too big, your cock is too big, I can take it, I can take it" Diane squealed, eliciting a restrained rumbling chuckle from the audience of witnesses.  Little did she know that from this point forward, this final rape would be the best thing that would happen her for the rest of her life.


Review This Story || Author: Jill Crokett
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