Extract from: Sisterhood of Submission

Mercy had pale pink skin and thick, curling, shoulder-length brown hair. She had a strong jaw line with high cheekbones and a firm nose. Mischievous almond-shaped brown eyes shone out beneath bold straight brows. Her mouth was red and generously wide. She had a voluptuous figure with full breasts and large pale brown nipples. Her hips were wide, and her buttocks were fleshy and pale. A broad delta of dark curls fanned up from between her thighs, trimmed back around the pink slot of her labia.

All these assets were displayed to the policeman and the compound guards as she hung tethered from the gibbet in the corner of the yard. She had assumed that Volka would take the opportunity to amuse himself with her further, but after checking that she was secured he had gone back inside the main building, while a policeman gathered up the table, chair and parasol. He had asserted his power over them by publicly humbling and degrading them, and in the process had established their bona fides to his satisfaction. Apparently, that was where his active interest in them ended.

Not so the other policeman.

Those off duty crowded around Mercy, pinching and prodding her taut body as she was strung out between the rope from the gibbet above her head and her tethered ankles. Inevitably her full breasts received a lot of attention, and her nipples were pinched and tweaked and stretched into erection once more.

One of them lifted the cross resting on her breasts. 'I had no idea that nuns could be so hot. Maybe we should have more of them if they're all like those three... I mean look at those tits...' and he squeezed and slapped her breasts.

Mercy whimpered and looked for some sign of fellow feeling in their faces, but their expressions behind their mirrored sunglasses where unreadable. They were simply anonymous men enjoying the power they had over her.

Another of the policemen said, 'I know what will make them look even finer...'

He left the group for a few minutes and returned with a spool of wire and a pair of pliers. He cut a length of wire off and bound it about Mercy's breasts in a repeating figure of eight until they bulged outwards like pink melons. As the wire cut into her flesh Mercy whimpered and dribbled about her gag, shaking her head and pleading with her large soft brown eyes. The men took no notice of her.

'Not too tight,' one exclaimed, 'we don't want them dropping off her.'

'This is just tight enough to make them stand out properly,' the wire binder assured him. When he was done, he slapped Mercy's now taut-skinned ballooning breasts and they bounced against each other satisfyingly.

Another policeman said, 'I know how to make that backside of hers look better as well...'

There was wicker basket propped up behind the heavy gibbet post. From it he took out a taws nailed to a wooden handle. He lined the leather strap up on Mercy's bottom and then swung it viciously. The leather bit into the soft pillows of her buttocks and she screamed about her gag, clamping upon it as she did so. The shockwaves rippled across her haunches while her taut roped body jerked like a plucked string, setting her wire-bound breasts bouncing and her cross dancing on their unnaturally bulbous upper slopes. The other men cheered as the taws man struck again and again...

When it felt that her bottom was on literally fire Mercy wet herself, her water squirting out between her spasmodically clenching thighs and down her legs and over the wooden scaffold floor. The men laughed as the intimate stream sparkled in the sun.

Mercy was only half conscious when the lashing stopped. The taws man felt her glowing, simmering backside with satisfaction. 'You see the skin's not broken but she won't be able to sit down without a whimper for a week...' Then he stood behind her and opened his flies. He took hold of her raw buttocks to pry them apart and rammed his cock up into her pussy from behind. Mercy sobbed as his cock filled her and his hips ground against her sore bottom. Her supple body bowed forward with the vigour of his thrusts, jerking tight against her cuffed wrists and ankles.

'She won't forget me in a hurry...' he grunted.

No, she never would...

They did not all simply screw Mercy at once, although they were perfectly free to. Instead, they began to play a little game with her.

As the day wore on, she found she could beg for oil for her skin to protect it from the sun, or water to drink or a little bread to eat. As long as she did so shamelessly and humbly and paid with her body. She moaned and wriggled and whimpered until she attracted somebody's attention enough for them to remove her gag and then she had to say the words they wanted to hear, in a language as far removed from her cross and calling as possible.

'Please Sir, may I have some water, Sir? Please slap my tits if you like, Sir... Please fuck me, Sir... I'd like you up inside me, Sir... Please use my arsehole, Sir... but put a little oil in it first, if you please...'

And they did all that and more.

Soon Mercy was standing in a filthy drying puddle of waste, sweat, oil, sperm and her own juices. By now her breasts were mauve from the restricted circulatory flow caused by the wires about their roots and they pulsated painfully. Every so often somebody brought a bucket of water to throw over her to wash her off and revive her when she began to flag.

By evening, as the air cooled, most of the police agents had made use of her. Then the compound guards had their chance. They proved to be equally inventive.

They uncuffed her right ankle from the scaffold platform and lifted her leg up into the air, stretching and bending it until her knee was almost up level with her shoulder and she was whimpering as she feared her leg would be wrenched off at the hip. Then a short rope was used to tie her ankle cuff to the rope above her head, binding her into what looked like an extreme leg extension: a split grand from some perverse naked ballet, with her leg lifted almost vertical so that her groin was stretched tight and her pussy mound gaped and bulged between her straining, trembling thighs and the pucker of her anus was exposed at the base of her open buttock cleft.

Then they lashed this fresh expanse of tender flesh they had exposed with canes and straps from the basket behind the gibbet, making her shriek and sob and convulse and spin about on the ball of her left foot in a futile attempt to escape the blows. But there was one way she could escape the pain, of course...

'Please screw me, Sirs... I want to have your cock up my cunt or up my arsehole Sir... I don't care... I'm a hot nun, Sirs... Just fuck me, please!'

And they did so, taking hold of her body and her tortuously extended right leg in their arms while standing either side of her braced left leg and burying their cocks up into her cruelly distended passageways. Soon their sperm was trickling down her stretched left inner thigh from both pussy and anus.

When they had all had her once they left her for an hour with her leg still extended and their filth still dribbling out of her until half her body was numb and she thought she would never be able to walk again. Her muffled screams called them back to her. And then she had to beg them to take her right leg down and stretch her left up so they could beat her and screw her from that side as a change.

And when they were finally done with her and darkness fell across the compound and its lights came on, Mercy shivered and cried quietly as she hung from her gibbet.

Was her sacrifice worthwhile?

It had to be!