"Slaves Being Put to Death" By robblu (https://pastebin.com/u/robblu) URL: https://pastebin.com/kiejm0Vq Created on: Thursday 4th of August 2016 10:38:29 PM CDT Retrieved on: Saturday 31 of October 2020 03:29:40 AM UTC Slaves Being Put to Death-consensual, group , throat-cutting, disembowelment « on: July 22, 2013, 01:29:33 pm » Quote First, I apologize that I have been off the boards for so long. Here is a story that speaks to my heart on several levels. The eroticism in it is based on emotion and memories. However, the primary attractiveness of this story is the fact that submissive girls are submitting to death as a group to someone they deeply care about. My favorite Dolcett/execution stories center around consent without mitigating or sexualizing the pain, violence and anguish of the deaths. As you can read here, I tend to lean to realism in my stories and enjoy the submissive female's point of view. I also make it clear that while the deaths are necessary for whatever reason, the executioner's relationship to the victim is as poignant as that of the submissives. Please let me know what you think. It is a cool morning when my Lady and Mistress took us out to the barn to be slaughtered. All of us have been here serving my Lady for three years and now we have reached our Age of Resolution as slaves. None of us wished to apply for emancipation which I believe that our Lady might have granted us. Our love for her is so great that our lives not ending with her feeling wrong. She said she was honored and that she would carry out our deaths as soon as possible. It did mean that we had to go out a few weeks ago and buy new slaves. We all got go along with my Lady and help in the selection process. It was really a joy for us. For me it meant finding someone who would take the same care that I take with my Lady's comfort. My job as massage therapist and concubine aren't the most important but I take it very seriously and wanted a girl who's skills and attitude about being a slave were like mine and my sister slave's. We don't begrudge our slavery. Serving my Lady is a privilege and submitting our lives even unto death is only the final great act of submission. So we all trained our replacements...three concubine/personal attendants, two cooks, two landscaping and maintenance girls, three housekeepers, and two bookkeepers. My lLady chose well and in just a couple of weeks, we felt like they could take our roles on in the household and we could be put to death. The night before our Lady had our replacements bed with us and reward us for our service. In our dorm the room was filled with the sighes and cries of pleasure, weeping of joy. It was difficult for me to climax though, the young girl I had helped select was servicing me with her tongue admirably. I held her head and writhed against her tongue but struggled. All I could think about was my last act of service to my Lady. The girl seemed to sense this. In the darkness, amongst the rustling and moans of all the sex around us, she looked deeply into my eyes. Was this not the wish of our Lady to enjoy the pleasure she provided? Her face softened and she reminded me that her love for my Lady was as great as hers. I could see her eyes filled with tears of emotion in the moonlight shadows. She began to lick me again and I opened my spirit to her and felt myself cascading into a relentless series of climaxes. I was so exhausted that I almost overslept. The twelve of us walked lightly and gayly down the grassy path to the barn where we would die. Mistress walked with us smiling, clearly glad to be with us as we were to be with her. When we finally arrived at the barn, she stopped us and asked who wanted to go first. Then she would come and get us after each one. We told my Lady that we wanted to all share the experience with each other as sister slaves. We came to her together, served her together, fell in love with her together, we made love with her together, and were often disciplined and punished together. We felt like it would be wrong to not die together. She smiled proudly and led inside. There was a chair with a paddle on it. My heart lept. One last time for our daily spanking over my Lady's lap. She sat down without direction and we lined up at her right hand. Fourth in line, I watched as each of my sisters before me laid over my Lady's lap. There, my Lady raised the skirt of their dress and gave them a brief hand spanking on their bare cheeks before taking the wooden paddle to there flesh, reddening the skin angrily and bringing the girls sobs. I courtsey to my Lady before my turn and she returns my smile. The ritual is as familiar and welcome as a lover's kiss. The cool air touching my bare bottom, her soft hand on my cheeks, the stinging of the bare hand warm up: all are the prelude to the firm paddle which I still flinch from after all these years. I am crying freely in only a few strokes, squirming. She is strong fair and even, showing no partiality to me. Even as she is hurting me, I am thinking of the thousands of times my tongue has tasted her and my tears are as much of sadness that I will never taste her again. When I was properly disciplined, I thanked my Lady and wait with my other sisters as we watch them receive their final paddlings. Behind us, in the main part of the barn, I see twelve ropes hanging from the rafters and two of the new slaves making preparations for our deaths. One of them is the girl who pleasured me the night before and we smile awkwardly and nod. Dying at your Mistress' hand is a deeply personal event for a slave and I know that she is embarrassed to invade on my privacy. It is kind but Mistress cannot be bothered with the disposition of our bodies, so her presence there is a necessity. My smile was one that told her that I understood. Once we were all spanked, Mistress rose with a certain sadness and took two girls hands and we all came around and followed her into the main part of the barn. She led the two girls in hand to the far two ropes. Each cord of rope was on a winch which was hand cranked from above, where the second new slave was making her way to perform that task. The girls shed their clothing without being instructed, giving the useless garments to the first new slave who stored them in large bin. Each of the rest of us went to a rope and did the exact same thing. As my undergarment fell to my ankle, the knowledge that I was about to experience death touched the instinctive part of me and I felt a chill of fear run through me. That was heightened when I saw the first girl in the line, hands restrained behind her being lifted by the ankles slowly off the ground. The second girl was laying on her back raising her feet for my Lady to restrain in the ankle restraints attached to the bottom of each rope. I could see my Lady smiling as she joked with the girl laying on her back. A moment later she was being raised herself. I realized that the moments that she was tying us off to the ropes was her last intimate time with her. When it was time to kill us she would have to seperate her emotions she had for us from the completely necessary task she had to carry out. When I was naked and while I waited, I took a moment to hug all of my sisters, and my impetus seemed to spark the rest of them. Mistress seemed to have no objections. I even went down and hugged the restrained, hanging girls, their heads now red from blood going to their head, before prancing back to my spot in line, seventh from the first girl. By the time I had hugged everyone my Lady was ready to restrain me. Without bidding, I layed back on the uncomfortable hay floor that would soon be baptised with my blood, and lifted my feet. She stepped close and let me rest the flats of my feet on her tummy as she performed the task of restraining my ankles. Her smile was warm but restrained, a tinge of sadness. "Well, little one, you seem quite ready," she said, "probably more than I am." I felt her hands stroking my feet tenderly as she spoke, invoking her pet name for me when I made love to her. I blinked hard so as not to begin crying. "Please my Lady," I urged earnestly against the protestations of my flesh, "I have never been more ready to give my life to you. I love You with all my heart." As I said the words I felt my legs being lifted by the quiet mechanical winch. When my inverted head is about Mistress' waist level, I reach my hands behind me to let her facilitate the restraining of my hands. "And I you, sweet girl," my Lady said as she tightened the plastic wrist bonds. Then she wrapped her arm around my naked frame and I felt her kiss my buttock warmly. She moved on afterward but the moment wasn't lost on me and I found myself silently weeping as I savored that last tender moment. I am overwhelmed sometimes at my love for my Lady and how much joy it brings me to serve her. I am always at a loss of how I could express my love to her like I can do anything more for her. I have given her my sex, my love, my soul, and in a few moments, I will gladly give my life. As I am ruminating about my Lady, it begins. I had difficulty seeing but I couldn't help but trying. Mistress spoke softly and evenly to the first girl, who responded quickly, though I couldn't hear the words. The blood is rushing to my head and my face is beginning to feel swollen, but I still strained to see. I see Mistress say one last thing to the girl and hear the girl's ascent. Then she groans very loudly and the groan turns into a scream. It is involontary on her part but it terrifies me even as my will commands my submission. I know the point is now moot since I am restrained. Still, I want to die with dignity. I can hear the sound of the first girls guts splashing in a creamy pile into a basin, a similar one to the one that is below my head. The howling stops with a sigh. Mistress' voice spoke again and a more tenuous little voice answers. Then a more restrained cry came from the second girl. In my periphery I can see a vivid splash of red. "OWW! OOWWIIEE! OOWWIEE! It HURTS....oh God....AIIIIIIIEEEEEE!!!" The second girl's death scream rose like a panic before the same sigh of death came from her stilling her struggle. The third girl's voice was apologetic when she responded to my Lady's inquiry which I could hear now. Did she want her throat cut first before she was gutted. The third girl was hoping it wouldn't offend my Lady if she took the easier death. Mistress chuckled softly and appreciatively telling her 'of course, not, baby' as she stepped behind her. A shoot of red arches from her throat as I hear the gurgling of her throat being carefully cut from ear to ear. The gurgling prevents any sound but she is close enough to see that she is shuddering and quaking spontaneously in her death throes. Mistress begins gutting her before she dies, but the girl can't feel or respond because her brain is shutting down. By the time my Lady has opened up her belly, the girl has gone quiet. Now, my Lady is close enough that I can witness the next three deaths. I am breathing heavily trying not to hyperventilate. My inversion is helping in that. The next two girls, both of the previous house maidens, opt for having their throats cut. Mistress happily obliges them, thoroughly savaging their necks before emptying their organs. Then my Lady comes to my sister concubine. Both of us are aware of the special relationship that we have with Mistress, who lets her bare hand linger along the girl's side and bottom. Mistress kneels for the first time gazing into my sister slave's eyes. "Good bye, my pretty." The girl is has been suspended upside down so much that she barely muster a good bye. Mistress rises and asks if she wants her to cut the girl's throat like the previous three girls. I see my sister's eyes widen with awareness and she summons strength to her voice, telling my Lady that she wanted to be gutted to live as many moments as possible with her. It is cliche' but earnest. My Lady leans forward and plants a soft kiss on the girls mons, and then places the tip of the blade on the top of the girl's vaginal cleft where her hooded pearl was. With remarkable strength, I saw the blade peirce the flesh and then sink into the girl's belly. The girl began to cry in shudders and whimper, pathetically, "Thank you, Miss.....thank you, Miss...." The girl never cried out for the entire three minutes it took to kill her until her final breath was registered with a sigh along with the removal of her heart which my Lady plopped into the bin atop the glistening entrails she had already removed. When a slave girl came and took the guts away, my Lady turned to me. It was time for me to be killed. I was breathing rapidly and apologized to her immediately. "Oh, Little One, I will really miss you. You have no reason to apologize." She looked down on me sweetly and I felt her fingers, wet with the blood of my sister slaves, gently play at my vaginal cleft. The touch wasn't really sexual but more comforting. She remembered that my favorite non-sexual contact was to have my mons petted. "May I cut your throat, sweet girl?" The words came out before I could think. "No, my Lady." Mistress smiled and raised her blade. "I love you, my Lady," I said through my weeping, now spontaneous. "I love you, baby girl. Good bye." I could smell her as she drew close. Her free hand wrapped around my small body. At the same time I felt the blade initially penetrate me about a half inch down to the pubic bone at the top of my vaginal cleft. The pain of my clitoris being cut through was so profound that I could only spring my eyes open and my mouth was stuck into an "O" of shock. I then clenched my eyes shut, gnashing my teeth tight as the blade began to tear apart the tough muscle walls of my tummy. I was shaking violently. I opened my eyes and instead of seeing my Lady's legs, all I could see was the blood falls erupting from my belly. I heard myself moan fully, deeply. My mouth was filled with the iron tinted taste of my blood which was now issuing from my mouth. Then my intestines began to fall past my vision. My breathing was was panicked. The realization that I was truly being disemboweled triggered primitive response and I cried out with fear that I didn't even identify with. All was in order here. I had served my Mistress for six good years and had reached the year of maturation for a slave. This was common and proper for me to die with my sister slaves like this. So, I gathered myself and stopped my wailing as my Lady continued to pull out the organs that perpetuated my life. I turned my head and saw the next girl waiting to die. She had a small smile and we made eye contact. She was telling me that I was dying well. I couldn't managed the smile but I appreciated it. Then I cried out again as my Lady cut something out of me and the pain was shockingly vivid. I was about to scream again, when I saw her address the blade deep into my open body cavity. As I drew the breath, there was a sharp pain in my heart. I could feel her ease the blade into the weary organ. I heard my sigh which was almost blissful before I felt darkness rush over me.