Tips from Killermiller....

I was introduced to the ceiling hold when I lived in a Caribbean country, where I got one of the more humiliating beatings of my life (http://mysteriousfetishes.blogspot.com/2014/11/when-it-rains-it-pours.html). I trained freestyle wrestling there, but, gosh.... how boring it was! Our coach, whose surname was Miller (I can't remember her first name, oh my...) had been a pro-wrestler too. She was so strict that we nicknamed her The Killermiller. Away from work and professional training sessions, Killermiller was a kind and relaxed lady in her thirties. This is the reason why, at the requests of three of the four girls who were taking classes with her, she gave us some tips of pro-wrestling. The three girls were Juana - a black Dominican lass (see the above mentioned link) -, Valentina - an Argentinian white chick -, and me - of course. Well, I will talk about these girls soon. For now, let me remember the glorious Killermiller's teachings, in special the ceiling hold, which is a theatrical staged hold that fascinated all of us.

As she said, we all are able to perform the ceiling hold - underneath and aloft, lol. So, we all experienced its tragic effects and the quasi-orgasmic feeling of putting a bitch on the heights like a human trophy.

I have already said that the correct jobber's position is as if she would perform a bridge (http://mysteriousfetishes.blogspot.com.uy/2016/09/thinking-lot-and-aloft.html). More than that, her head must be down in order to breathe properly, and it must be at the same height of her butt. Let me post one more time the ideal victim's position:

Gosh, what a beautiful drawing! Both expressions are so similar and, however, on the other side, they portray so different feelings... Philosophy, lol!

The video below perhaps sums up all the features of a good ceiling hold, including the begging lady - who is unfortunately begging in Japanese... Oh, I wish there were at least one Japanese reader here to help us...

Yes, very good indeed! These Japanese wrestlers are too clever to suffer so long time in a wrong position!

Let's post, now, some uncomfortable positions for a ceiling hold victim to endure:

Well, my dear job(ber) candidates: when you are on the heights, remember that if you do not keep your trunk arched upward, you will suffer like hell, because your shoulder joints will carry the can for your lack of strength - and vision... More than that: if you let your back and butt move down, you will inevitably adjust your head in a raised position; and, then, my dear, you will learn what a lack of air is. It is very hard to breathe in this position and an excruciating pain will torment your throat - and if someone hums "every breathe you take, every move you make", you will get it as a sick, sadistic joke. Oh, my: see that mature woman in the last pic: it is to be pitied!

The two posts below enhance the last remark. Look at the poor suffering bitches on the loser side and the mistake of trying to relief the pain by the trunk lowering.

The last pic shows us another two important topics. The first one is related to the perpetrator's leg strength. The stronger the legs, more the angle width to be reached. And the angle width is a humiliating factor for the victim, since it allows a full view of her privates, lol. A nude victim in a ceiling hold is very rare to see... But this is another theme!
Killermiller underlined the idea that the ceiling hold is a kind of trophy for the winner, a human trophy, indeed. It is presupposed that the girl submitted to the hold is completely defeated and too weakened to offer resistance. So, she is ready meekly to obey and collaborate for a great maneuver, in order to avoid more humiliation. Actually, the humiliation of the ceiling hold is a kind of concentrated humiliation, since it is the ultimate representation of a helpless, docile and desperate victim in excruciating pain, transformed into a trophy for all to see.
I remember Killermiller saying this kind of things to us, with that indefectible Paraguayan accent, full of retroflexes consonants:
- If you want to perform a ceiling hold, remember that your victim is already defeated, and that is better for her collaborating with you. Nobody can believe that the ceiling hold is performed only by means of the perpetrator's technique. It is a kind of atomic bomber, with the potential of concentrate humiliation. And you can add humiliation, if you want. Do you know how the Japanese wrestlers use to indicate to the victim that it is time to offer the arm to be pulled? By slapping the bitch's buttocks!

- And it is more humiliating if we use two slaps, instead of one. One for each arm... and buttocks!

The last tip: "do not try to put a girl bigger than you in a ceiling hold: be happy by the single fact that you have won a bigger girl. In the natural order, it is improbable." And, after this, the surprise: "So, I challenge you to wrestle me on the next Friday. No rules barred. I want to see who is really brave here!"
That Paraguayan lady with German ancestry was probably featherweight, while us all were bantamweight. Her challenge gave birth to our Mad Fridays, full of expectations and thrill.
Oh, I am really mad about catfight, and so I accepted the challenge, with one basic rule: the ceiling hold should be barred! I was very confident in my skills after so many training. Besides that, I had learned very quickly the secrets of various holds, including my favourite one: the camel clutch. Having recently received two sounding beatings in my country from Donna Lucrezia and Kapitoline (http://mysteriousfetishes.blogspot.com/2014/12/sing-o-goddess-anger-of-donna-lucrezia.html and http://mysteriousfetishes.blogspot.com.uy/2015/05/the-seven-year-bitches-viii.html), I would like to prove myself that I could fight again, even if the victory was improbable... I remember Miss Alley Oop to gain more hope... (http://mysteriousfetishes.blogspot.com/2014/12/je-ne-viens-pas-ce-soir-vaincre-ton.html).

The seven-year bitches - XV

Well, I will stop for a while Benedicto's report of his period of seven years spent with those bitches. Deep down, I am just a fragile girl, so these crude reports, these hanging scenes, uh... all of this impressed me too much.

A few days ago I dreamt of Kapitoline: she was not applying me a mere camel clutch, but thinking in a much worst punishment. I was tied naked and she was about to leading me downstairs to a dark room, where a noose was awaiting for me. Oh, gosh, I almost peed in the bed...

Kapitoline had spared a ponytail holder on, despite of my nudity. What a macabre detail... The hair is always an obstacle to the traditional executions, from hanging to the beheading, passing by the electric chair. Bah, what bad things to speak about! Let's get back to our traditional catfights...

Things went  even worst: since three days I have been dreaming of me and other girls being hanged unmercifully. An ACDC song in the background, and I may say that my nerves went simply rotten...

 

 I know that is only a pit stop, but I need it...

The seven-year bitches - XIII

After a few glasses of wine, Benedict felt better and began losing inhibitions:

- Oh, Kapitoline really beat out the shit of me! After putting me to sleep, she woke me up, and I notice two details: my hands were tied behind the back, and there was a noose around my neck.

- Oh, no, a hanging scene again!

- Well, this is a Kapitoline's leitmotiv,is not it?

- Ok. And your burrito, was it still hard?

- No, as I said. Kapitoline pulled the rope and forced my head up. But she was gentler with me than she had been to Sancha. I was not obliged to stand on tiptoes.

- How, so kind of her!

- She danced in front of me, turning the back on me and shaking the hips voluptuously - oh, she had a so lovely butt... My hose went hard like a rock. All of sudden, she turned to me and, as she noticed my boner, she stopped dancing just to approach me.

- Oh, how a bitch!

- She pointed my joystick and said: "what the hell is that?"

She kept looking at the erection a long time, smiling cruelly. She slowly put her top on, but in a so sensual way that it seemed that she was disrobing herself, instead of putting a piece of clothing on. 

- Those who are sexy, are sexy all the time... - I said quite enviously.

- She released me and challenged me to wrestle her: "Come on. Are you the man here? Then win a wrestling match and fuck my ass with this little hard wee wee. But, if I win, I will fuck you instead."

- Oh, what a good idea. lovely betting!

- But I was scared, although motivated by the possibility of fucking her. She was stronger, however, and dominated me again ease and rapidly. Besides that, a hard dick is a disadvantage to a male wrestler...

- I suppose so. There is a time to get excited, and there is another time to win a fight...

- Exactly. Kapitoline plays with a dead body and an alive piston.

 - The worst part: she humiliated me. I was completely worn out when she put me on her knees and spanked me hard. During the punishment, I rubbed my hard dick against her thigh and near cummed.

- Afterwards, she threw me on the floor, sat on my belly, grabbed my hard member, and gave me a second chance: "if you do not cum, you was free of getting screwed. If you cum, instead, I will fuck your ass".

- Oh, what a bitch. She did it only to humiliate you. It's obvious that you cummed.

- And rapidly. The way she stroke my love rod and pressed gently the the upper portion of my sack and groin... Oh, it was bewitching, to say the least. She looked like a professional of the art of handjob! I did not resist to her body, I caressed slightly her back and buttocks, and, when I was on the verge of cumming, I tried to stopped her. I tried to grab her wrists in vain, and I heard her saying "too late", laughing and mocking me, while I moved in despair my limbs, in a weird feeling of ultimate pleasure and sweet affliction. 

During the orgasm, she released for a very brief instant my yogourt gun, which was still spasmingout of control. I can not forget that...

- So do I. Let me invoke uncle Lacan: let's stop here and you will tell me about Sodomaland in the next session. It is me now who needs a glass of wine.

The seven-year bitches - XII

- I told you about a) my first "non-solitaire sexual experience", and b) my fear of Kapitoline. Well, both assertions are connected by a causal link - said Benedicto in the next session, like a good mathematician .

- We had told me that your sexual attraction in the beginning was to Kapitoline, if I am right.

- You are. That bitch was always teasing me, as she passed by my window in a skimpy bikini. The pool area was in front of my window. I wanked a lot while peering out her. All was all right until some day, when she toplessed herself during the sunbath, and kept looking at my window.

- She was really a bitch.

- For sure, but I did not care. I began wanking slowly. Kapitoline was lying in the sun. Sometimes she walked around and got back to her pool chaise longue. And I kept wanking. At some time, she got out. I took the opportunity to close my eyes and slow the pace of the strokes for a while, just to keep the erection hard and wait for the return of Kapitoline.

- You are very technical.

- Maybe. The problem is that my eyes were opened by Kapitoline's shout in my room: "What a good figure, hm? Naughty boy, peering me out"!

- Oh, the would be a good start! You hard on might have gone...

- Not completely... especially because... oh, it is shameful!

- Go on, I am your friend, mother confessor and quasi-analist...

- Ok... Well, you know about the wrestling skills of Kapitoline...

- Oh, I know it very well - I said with full knowledge of the facts, although not letting it show.

- Well, I told me that I was a naughty guy and began beating me. I tried to defend myself, but she was stronger and more skilled. She beat me very hard. She weakened me and finally immobilised me in a shameful position, in which I was on my belly. First she chin locked me for a good time:

- Then, she pulled me by the hair, just to mock me a long time while facing me:

- During all the time, my cock remained stiffened, to my surprise.
- Oh, dear, I think you like to be beaten or humiliated. Well, this is not a perversity...
- I think not. The idea of be beating disgusts, shames and humiliates me...
- Perhaps if your girlfriend beat you, it would be nice. Or a hot girl like Kapitoline...
- It is possible. The dick would not remain hard by no reason...  - - And how did this fight end?
- Well, she knew that I was excited, so she teased me by grabbing my dick at the same time she put me in a strangle hold. "This will make your little doodle calmer", she said, always laughing.

- Uh, it is really humiliating... oh, sorry, Benedicto, but you learnt well that humiliation can led to pleasure...
- Well - he moaned, visibly in discomfort. After a long pause, he continued - She finally scissored me, stroking my dick... and laughing, always laughing:

 - I finally collapsed. Until I can remember, my dick remained hard. But when I regained consciousness, I admit that she was finally resting...
- Of course, otherwise you would be a kind of stallion - and I neighed so perfectly that he finally relaxed and laughed...
- Well, I am very ashamed. Perhaps a glass of wine could give me courage to continue.
- Ok my poor and humiliated... stud! - and I neighed again...

The seven-year bitches - VI

- What was the reason why they fought?

- As I said, we lived apart from each other. However, once Sancha did not move out the farm - in reality, she still lives there - I suppose that that she played with her step sister a kind of cat and mouse game, playing she the mouse, of course.

- And she liked her role, that is, she was a masochist.

- Yes, and I think that both girls knew well about me peeping them all the time...

- Exhibitionism and teasing...

- The first time I saw Sancha hanging alive was terrible.

- Please, report it to me.

- The final act of the fight was in a barn, but all began at the pool area, near my window. I think that it was obvious that I was watching everything.
- What do you want to tell?
- I will be clear. Each time Kapitoline dominated Sancha, she looked towards my window. And the way she looked... well... the way she looked...
- "...was way beyond compare"...
- Yes - he said, not getting the quote - In the first hold, she put Sancha lying on the stomach, pulled the arms to place them on her thighs...
- ...and pulled the poor Sancha's chin, by clutching it.
- Yes. How do you know?
- It is a camel clutch hold, a classic move on push overs like Sancha - I said, omitting the fact that I myself had been a victim of Kapitoline's camel clutch - And I supposed that he looked towards your window, while in the top position... How sexy, ahn?

- Like hell! Poor Sancha, It seemed she was suffering terribly. Her expression said all...

- I suppose, it may be excruciating painful - I said (oh, what a cheek I am!)

- After this... camel clutch, ahn? Kapitoline punished Sancha with a classic move, by which the poor victim's is pressed in the opposite elbow area, while firmly locked:

- The mere thought of the scene makes my dick stiffened...

Oh, I should have taken his trousers off... but I restrained myself. Everything has its time... 

- Kapitoline really manhandled Sancha in this hold, as her poor step sister had the head pressed between our cousin's thigh and leg... Oh, you should have seen the way Kapitoline looked towards my window. I think you would understand better what I am feeling...

- Sure... and what else?

- After that, a move very difficult to describe. The victim, lying on the back, has the legs shaped as a number four, while the perpetrator passes her own leg through the number-four triangle and... I can not explain, the hold is a kind of lever.

- I understand perfectly, it is a figure-four leg lock.

- Well, the unfortunate Sancha paid for her sins in that torture... She begged for mercy, while cruel Kapitoline mocked her and laughed... at me!    

 - And finally, our cousin put Sancha to sleep by choking her...Always looking at me... Yes, I am certain that she knew well that I was watching the scene...

- That look...

 - Oh, that look - he said another time, as if he were going to faint...
- You know the way to the loo - I said, standing up and leaving the room. It was not the right time for me to catch him...

The seven-year bitches - IV

This confessional session happened some years after Benedicto had left for good the wine-growning-farm, the house of which he shared with Kapitoline and Sancha for seven years.

He dwelled in one of the three wings of the big manor-house, whilst his cousin and Sancha resided in the opposite one. They lived independently of each other.

- We lived in reality apart from each other. I can count on the two hands the times we three met together, and on one hand the ones I met one of them.

Benedicto was devoted to Mathematics; Kapitoline, to wrestling; and Sancha, to Languages and Literature:

- Sancha was a very introspective girl. She worked all the day as a recluse in her bedroom, studying languages. She was very young (although she was four years older than Kapitoline), but she was considered as an outstanding translator. She was requested to translate into and from rare unfamiliar languages, like Armenian and the Kartvelian ones.

- Gosh...

- And she was very beautiful too...

- I know... - and seeing that he was probably thinking silently about the beautiful Kapitoline's step-sister, I tried to set the topic aside - We were talking about tying recently, were not us? What do you think about a good hog tying in a catfight environment... As a final punishment?

- Hog tying?

- Yes - and I searched in the computer just to show this to him:

- It is arousing like hell. The girls are really lovely, especially the brunette one. It is possible to figure out that she was depantsed by the blonde hottie. Oh, the pose is very sexy, we have an amazing butt glimpse...

- And what else?

- It is exciting to imagine that a girl can beat and humiliate another. And if she put the opponent naked, it is better yet...

- Let's see, then - and I searched for another pic:

- Help, I need some breath... Lovely butt (and tits, also), lovely feet pose, and what an expression of scaring while her slender tormentor does efficiently the work...

- A lovely scene, it is true. A tied woman is always exciting, but I think that the culture industry, at least in the movies, has explore it only under both an heterosexual approach and composition of the scene. Men are often the active elements...

- Oh, I really want to be an Amerindian to fall in love with that Apache... But what use is to fall in love if I can not... deeply love...

- Keep calm, my friend. The solution is at your hand... - I said so, but poor Benedicto did not catch the idea...

I continued, in order to wake her up from his state of dismay. Other areas of the culture industry, however, had a much more daring approach - like the comics, and the unforgettable Bionda:

- It is much for me today, Mariane... I really must rest for a while...

What you have done, Madame du Barry?

I think Madame du Barry's spirit has played tricks on my, because I have been thinking in decapitation since the last posts. Oh, gosh, what a disgusting matter... However, since it has been hauting me, the best way of getting rid of it is to speak about it.

Well, once I am a philosopher by nature, lol, I intuit that beheading in catfight and female wrestling is related to... hair pulling! Oh, I guess that beheading is an unequivocal way to show that there is a real winner and a ultimate loser. It is a radical way to show it, it must be said. Since ancient times, a dead loser is a decapitated one. Perseus ans Maedusa prove it!

"Hey there", it seems that Perseus said, exposing Medusa's head - and his lovely dicky bird and beans bag -, "that bitch is really defeated and dead! I am simply the best!"

I am willing to bet that in all civilisations beheading the enemy is a kind of ritual . Even in the most unknown ones... We can see on the right side, for example, a female warrior in Africa holding her male head trophy... Well, well, well, I would really like to see a real ancient war between two female armies, however I am certain that a lot of head trophies would have appear after it, because, for women, happiness is a warm... gun?... Well, is a warm humiliation! It must be said, however: death was a good relief for the humiliated losers. After all, without consciousness, there is no feelings, meanings and all. The winner, nevertheless, were very pleased to humiliate the mere image of their foes... 

And although there was not battles between female armies to search for, the comics can show us the paradigmatic image of conquering: here we can appreciate the lovely Wonder Woman defeating and beheading hot Mera...

Let's see more of the gentle exchange of lovely gestures...

And this is the way children are introduced to our basic instincts, in which cruelty and sexuality are well mixed up. Oh, it is better than Peppa Pig and other politically correct disgusting stuff. And it is not strange or surprising that there was a man (an Aquaman, lol) between the hotties. Sex is live and death!

Uh, and where is the connexion between beheading and hair pulling? It is in the act of holding and showing the victim's head, of course. I am very tired, so I will comment this in the next post. Before that, let's enjoy a good hair pulling: "Hey there: I really defeated the bitch!"

Oh, gosh, the winner's expression is quasi-orgastic... And she has the bitch's top as an additional trophy... uhhhhhhhhhhhh... Let´s have a shower... 

The last registers of Psing-pour

It happened that the blonde girl felt resented from the attitudes of his brunette companion. She noticed that the girl was really loving the High Defensor and she concluded that she had informed him about the existence of the other convicted.
- You could have lied, bitch. You could have said that I was dead - she said one occasion in the mines.
- I am sorry - answered, full of fear, the cute brunette - I did not have the idea...
- You bitch!
The beautiful blonde was really resented. One day, in a muddy place, he had the opportunity of catch her ex-companion and really gave her a(nother!) beatdown.

Albeit the wardens were trained to break up fights between the convicts, they loved to watch the girls fighting. So, they intervened only when to poor brunette was severely thrashed.
As all the people in Psing-pour had the right to petition, the High Defensor asked the High Tutor the changing of the forced labour sentence of his loved brunette. He proposed that the girl could serve time at his rural property, working in agriculture, under the strict supervision of his wife. The High Tutor agreed, for "the guarantee of life of the convict".
The poor brunette suffered like hell at the hands of the High Defensor's vixen wife. She had to do the job of the animals, like pulling the plough...

...or turn the wheel mill... even in front of illustrious foreigners visitors...

Besides that, the vixen wife suspected of the real intentions of her husband and chastised the poor girl every time he supposed that they had had sex...

Oh, poor girl, she was punished many, lots of, millions of times...

The registers do not inform about the subsequent events in the life of our beautiful convicts...

End of the year... I will change my subject now. Enough of captivity fantasies for a while... The first post of the new year must be related to a really new subject. After all, new year, new life...

"Back to where you once belonged"

The High Tutor ordered, as soon as he learned about the escape, the capture of the two fugitives. The High Defensor of Psing-pour drew upon himself the responsability for the capture. He and his faithful squire took, in the main harbour, the fastest sailing friged, driven also by the rowing of fifty galley prisoners. The ship was permanently ready for warfare, and headed immediately for a natural rocky harbour near the connection between the mainland and the sandbank.
Meanwhile, the town harbour was kept under strict vigilance, in the case of an eventual return of the fugitives by that way.
The strong favourable wind and the whippings on the back of the prisoners made it possible to reach the natural rocky harbour twenty hours after departing. Through a large special plank, the High Defensor and his squire disembarked. The High Defensor mounted on a stupendous and huge horse, second to none in the skill of swimming through troubled waters.
The High Defensor and his squire, then, came into the sandbank at the very moment when the blonde fugitive was reprimanding her naked and beaten companion.

The two men soon found the weakened brunette. They recovered her, giving her water and food and, without any menaces, she told them all she knew, including the route of the remaining fugitive.
The High Defensor ordered his squire to seek immediately the blonde.
- Go and capture her. Go to the opposite point of the sandbank and make light signals in order to the town people send you a boat.
The squire went out and the couple (and the spectacular horse) stayed for rest during the night, in order to cross the ford in the early morning. In the middle of the cold night, the lovely brunette meekly asked for a cuddle, as she needed to be warmed. The High Defensor undressed himself and satisfied her prisoner.
The repeated acts of sex were a natural consequence... And love too.

The High Defensor fell in love actually, as did the captive girl. Nevertheless, he was an earnest and honourable member of the kingdom and had to keep apart love and state affairs. In the early morning, he put her prisoner on the croup of the horse and crossed the ford, which, ironically, was quite dry...
In the ship, the poor girl made the trip tied to a pole by the feet and with the hands tied in front of her - as ruled by the judicial code of Psing-pour. When they disembarked in the main harbour, the High Defensor knot the end of a rope around the girl's neck and attached the other end to the bridle. Then, he humiliated the beautiful prisoner, compelling her to march with the head blow at the head the procession that led her to the triumphal entry into the town.

The triumphal entry happened almost concomitantly with the equally humiliating blonde's arrival, which is a matter for another brief report.
After reaching the middle of the sandbank, the squire lost the traces of the fugitive. He was a very experimented man, who was able to find a mosquito in the dark with no lamp. Well, he had the means to make light, this was not the problem. The real problem was the intelligence of the fugitive blonde. Feeling she was about to be caught, she courageously went to the sea and swam a lot along the sandy strip. She managed to swim hundred of meters up and sidestream, having her shoes appropriately tied to her belly by the shoelaces (being she barefoot, the state of her feet would go badly and she could not walk fast). She was very strong and the labour in the mine had strengthened her muscles a lot.
She decided to stop swimming when she felt her forces going out. She had to reserve them to run to the ford and try to cross it. And then she did, arriving there few moments latter the departure of the High Defensor and the other captive.
She felt so happy seeing the ford almost dry! She seated for a while to take breath and go on, just at the right moment the squire, who had intuited the fugitives's maneuver, appeared in the distance. She tried to flee, but she was easily caught, due to her state of weakness.
The squire recovered her with water and food, put the remaining shreds of her clothes off, and tied her:
- We are going to rest a lot. Sleep tight, because we have to cross the entire sandbank. We are going in a couple of hours.
The blonde had no options but obey.
She pleaded him to keep her shoes on. Notwithstanding the strict code of justice ordered that prisoners should be kept stark naked, the squire took pity of that beautiful girl and stated:
- Ok. In this sandbank, I am the state: go on.
The idea of concentrate power made some stir in the squire's ego. Sometimes he addressed the blonde some humiliating jokes regarding her state, besides spurring her, by pricking her naked buttocks with a long piece of wood, of which end he had sharpened to use as a spear.

All of these humiliations infuriated the blonde, who noticed the joy of the squire in being the head and master of the sandbank. When they arrived to a spot to rest, she told him without any false voice tone:
- I am very horny. I must make sex with you.
The squire replied:
- No problem. Let's make it.
- I am tied - replied the girl - You must untie me...
The intelligent squire, perceiving the trick maneuver, added:
- Well, let's take these shoes off at first...
The blonde smiled at him and offered the feet to the squire, who undid the shoelaces and removed the shoes from the girl. Afterwards, he approached the sea and, with a move worthy to be in the Olympic Games, threw the shoes at distance into the sea...
The blonde went mad and cursed him...
- Oh, darling, do you want to be untied, uh? - and rapidly he cut the ropes, put her on his knees and gave her a splendid spanking.

The spanking made her really horny, and, against her initial purposes, she made sex with the squire and cummed like a doe...
Completely beaten and humiliated by the squire, she meekly got attached to a yoke, that the squire took from his sack of provisions and tools:
- Now that there is no rope and hope, you will have do wear a luxury necklace, hahahaha... - and she had to go on barefoot and in stocks...

After a pause for rest and another good amount of sex and humiliating cummings, they came back to the town. There was no need of light signals: the raft stolen by the girl had remained grounded in the sand. To an additional humiliation to the blonde, the squire tied her in a standing position against the raft pole, and this way, they triumphally reached the harbour, cheered by the public.

Her companion of crimes was awaiting for her in the docks. Both of them had their hands tied to a thick and large piece of wood on their upper backs and they were led to the presence of the High Tutor, in order to be sentenced.

Poor lovely girls... From the morning to the afternoon, they awaited for the sentence in a kind of pillory. They were chained and sustained only by a sharp piece against their privates. The unfortunate prisoners had to work hard her biceps in order to avoid worst damages on those tender and pretty areas... And a sharp rod tortured them all times they tended to lean against the pole, what obliged them to keep their back forward! 

The poor girls had already suffered galore when the High Tutor came into scene and proclaimed the sentence. The brunette girl was sentenced to be hung by the left wrist for seven times, for seven minutes each session, with a gap of seven minutes between each one. The first hangings deserved applause and ovation of the audience, once the disgraced girl struggled in vain, screaming in pain, and opened several times her legs to a full displaying of her privates to the audience. In the last sessions, she was so annihilated that she passed out during the hanging.

She was also convicted to an extra year of sentence time in the mines...
The blonde girl, as the leader, deserved a permanent branding mark on his right buttock. She was led to a room, where two female serveants of the state unmerciful and efficiently complied with the order.

She was also convicted to two additional years in the sentence time in the mines...

"Living easy, livin' free", "Don't stop me! I'm on the highway to hell"

I have already presented the kingdom of Psing-pour, created by me and my then boyfriend ten years ago, during our trips through captivity fantasies. So, let me continue to tell the story...

Albeit the prisoners in Psin-pour were kept under strictly watching, only an isolated case of escaping attempt was found in the files. After being released from the chains to go to jail after the time labour, two convict girls - sentenced for theft and then serving time as forced labourer in the mine - hit a prison ward in the head. They ran fast to the town after introducing in the warden's mouth some amount of a lethargic medicine they had managed to steal from the infirmary. In the way, the more clever and strong of them, a blonde cute girl, attacked a poor damsel and put her to sleep by applying a kind of rear naked choke. They distributed the victims clothes just to cover their bodies. The clever blonde girl got the pair of shoes, which would work as a protective piece against the gravel and the sharp-projectioned pebbles of the sandbank. Afterwards, they left the poor girl naked and passed out on the street, and ran towards the harbour town.

They stole a little raft from an old fisherman, whom they also put to sleep, and navigated to the sandbank, from where they expected reach the continent, because it was the extremely low tides season . They docked the raft into the sand at the only spot washed by serene waters, just opposite to the harbour town. Then, they walked towards the other point of the sandbank. The other girl, a beautiful brunette, soon started complaining of the pebbles hurting her bare feet. Besides that, there were nonbypassable dense thickets, full of thorny bushes that hurt them a lot. Walking along the seaside was impracticable, due to the high waves wildly breaking in the shore. So, it took more than 24 hours for them to reach the other point of the sandbank. To their deception, the tide was not yet enough low to allow the passage.

The brunette girl went in desperation and, infuriated, attacked the blonde girl, who had planned everything. The blonde bitch, was, however, much stronger, and rapidly taught the companion her place by the means of a humiliating beatdown. She stripped the brunette naked and, making her craw close to a tree (that point of the sandbank had more friendly vegetation), put her in its shade and warned:

- I will try to find some water and something to eat, bitch. Keep calm here and wait.

In that moment, however, something unbelievable for them happened. They heard a neigh! Toys in the attic, the clever blonde grasped the situation in a rapid moment, and started to run towards the point of the sandbank where they had docked the raft, leaving her poor naked colleague at the mercy of the destiny...

(PS: noblesse oblige: I really love Edward Weston photos. He was a genius!)