BDSM Library - Story: Traitors! Female Execution in the Reich, Chapter: Part 4

Note: this is a work of fiction and all names used are fictitious. Any resemblance to the name of a real person is purely coincidence. Your comments are appreciated at jcrokett@yahoo.com

Traitors! Female Execution in the Reich - Part Four

By 1:30 p.m. the guillotine had been almost completely assembled by with the three experienced executioners; everything but the blade that is, which was being given a final honing at the village machine-shop. The band platform in the village square took on an eerie focus of activity as the medieval fountain of Neptune next to it continued to put out its redeemingly cool December waters. SS guards in parade dress set up the long tables which would hold the schnapps and other refreshments for the citizenry who would at 4 p.m. witness the execution of two more of the Fuehrer's feminine attempted assassins.

31-year-old communications worker Maria Katzener and her 34-year-old colleague Theresa Wasserturm hung by their ankles from what looked like a long single piece of steel rail from a railroad track which was suspended horizontally 2 meters above the concrete floor of the punishment room. The women's forearms were bound tightly wrist-to-elbow behind their backs and their ankles were spread 1 meter apart with the bare soles of their feet exposed above their rail-lashed ankles. The women hung about 10 feet apart from one another, their spread, white bottoms visible upon entering the room.

The heavier Wasserturm's hips and buttocks were clearly wider than Katzener's, and hers would receive the belt first. In an attempt to reveal his personal interest in the punishment to the Fuehrer's staff in Berlin, the Colonel had elected to deliver the first bottom strapping himself as the camera rolled. He was determined that it be severe.

The roundly-figured Theresa was thinking of the 13-year-old son she would never see again as the first bold slap of the wide leather belt came across her right butt cheek. With the first stroke she yelped and flexed her knees, which was difficult to do with her ankles securely lashed against the long iron bar. The 34-year-old divorced mother convulsed in agonizing terror as she attempted, only in vain, to move her torso in every direction possible to avoid the strap. Her upside down sandy blond hair danced to the rhythm of the Colonel's belt, in step with the lyrics of her own sobbing. The Colonel did not count as stroke after forceful stroke landed across the five-foot-two, busty telephone operator's bottom, her tears flying as they wetted the front of her blond hair. The more he stroked, the more she screamed, and the more she screamed, the more the Colonel seemed reenergized to continue his task.

As Frau Wasserturm hung moaning from the belt whipping that had left her entire wide, white bottom covered with red, swollen welts, the Colonel withdrew and requested that the whipmaster proceed with the punishment on Frauline Katzener, having expended his energy on the heavier, bustier mom. Having hung, literally, in suspended anticipation as she listened to the agonizing screams of her colleague, Maria was heard to cry softly even before the first stroke of the whipmaster's strap touched her slightly pear-shaped feminine bottom.

As he released the first three strong strokes in unannounced rapid-fire succession, Maria reflexively flexed her thighs and legs with all her might, fighting hard against the ankle bindings to lift her butt cheeks all the way to the rail, nearly touching it with her bare bottom. As she strained in vain to protect her exposed buttocks, the whipmaster used the opportunity to quickly land a fourth stroke directly between her legs, which had spread wide at the knees by her uplifting flexion. As that fourth stroke landed across Maria's freshly circumcised vulva, the 31-year-old single working woman let out a scream certainly heard not only throughout the building complex, but also into the village itself.

Maria twisted and cried like a baby as she was strapped while hanging helplessly inverted, pleading "No, no" in vain for the mercy of her executioners. As the whipmaster feverishly lashed the leather belt-strap repeatedly across the young woman's spread cheeks, the Colonel and several of the guards began to stick cotton in their ears. They noted that the muscular, experienced whipmaster already wore aviation mechanics' earplugs when he arrived.

After not less than 70 strokes of the belt had landed across Maria's bare bottom, she hung in vocal-less agony, her face contorted as if witnessing an apocalyptic vision. As the Colonel ordered the whipmaster to stop, the camera crew began to move their equipment to get a frontal view of the two ankle-hung young women. Freshly belt-marked Maria burst into sobs at the completion of her strapping, as the Colonel then walked up to Theresa and slapped the defenseless, arm-bound 34-year-old divorcee firmly across the face.

"That is for daring to betray your fatherland" he pronounced with pompous arrogance as the helpless Theresa began to cry.

"Please sir, your mercy sir" she mumbled through tears as she watched the Colonel lift a small pair of mechanic's pliers from his gray SS officers' jacket pocket, playfully rubbing them back and forth across Theresa's upside-down left nipple.

"Please, I have a son. I will do anything for you sir, I will serve you sir" she pleaded as he toyed with the blonde's nipple.

"No, no, please sir, please no" she begged with condemned eyes as the Colonel clamped the nipple between the jaws of the pliers and crushed it as the inverted, hanging woman screamed a scream only heard in nightmares. The Colonel then repeated the violent act on the blonde's right nipple.

As Theresa sobbed from the pain of her violent defilement, the Colonel approached Maria, pliers in hand. Miss Katzener hung in silent resignation, her face contorted in agony as the Colonel crushed and tortuously twisted her nipples with the pliers' grip, all while he commented on her firm, small breasts.

Once the Colonel had finished delivering his bruising mammary torture, the two nurses returned and, kneeling, began to cut off each woman's hair with a pair of scissors. As both dark and light long straight clumps of hair fell to the floor from the inverted women, the Colonel instructed the nurses that once their head hair had been shorn to a length of about one inch they were to be taken down, given enemas, and then dressed only in a man's striped prison shirt. They were not to be offered a last meal or any final religious ritual. He further instructed the guards that the condemned females were to be brought into the village square at exactly 3:50 p.m. sharp under heavy guard, but their arms and legs were not to be bound.

"We want to show the folks in Berlin that our prisoners fear escape so much that they would not I think of it, even when walking outside the prison walls."

At 3:45 p.m. the camera operator panned the crowd, totally amazed to see that nearly 2,000 people had already showed up in the cold, early evening December air to witness the public execution of two young women who he thought probably had nothing to do with the actual bomb plot against the Fuehrer. He worried that the winter solstice northern European sunset, which was due in less than 10 minutes, would totally rob him of the light he needed to record the executions. He also wondered if it was the Colonel's metaphoric intent to kill the helpless women at sunset on the shortest, darkest day of the year. After he made a few passes over the crowd he shut the camera off to preserve film, only wishing he could preserve the ambient light just as easily.

As soon as he turned the 16mm camera off he saw the large wooden double doors of the Colonel's compound across the square swing open as a group of helmeted SS guards in parade dress hustled two short, bare legged human figures out into the gravel paved square. He rolled the film again as the group approached the guillotine, capturing in the fading light the women's shorn hair which had been unceremoniously chopped off at irregular lengths.

As the unrestrained, bare legged, barefoot women were escorted to the platform, the crowd parted like the Red Sea for the stern looking SS guards who led the way. They execution party was followed by the Colonel, who appeared to lift his jaw and smile briefly when his eyes saw the camera. As the women emerged from the crowd and were led up on the stage the crowd grew silent as they now clearly viewed the bare legs of the two attractive females, who wore only somewhat oversized, striped prison shirts which barely covered their buttocks. It was also clear to the crowd that had been crying, their eyes wide with fear.

"Maria Katzener, having been found guilty of treason to the Reich, and complicit with the resistance in its plot to kill our dear Fuehrer, you have been sentenced to death, a sentence which shall now be carried out by the removal of your head by guillotine blade" the Colonel bellowed aloud to the crowd and camera as if he were making a Papal decree.

With those brief words, and as the camera rolled, the crowd collectively gasped as guards standing to the front and rear of the pretty, 5 foot, 4 inch brunette quickly unbuttoned her shirt and pulled it down off her shoulders, leaving her completely naked before several thousand. Rapidly anxious, frosty breath puffed from Maria's mouth like a freight train in the northern European, late December air as the assembled mass gawked at her smooth-shaved, girl-like vaginal slit. Her dark, bruised nipples stood erect in the evening chill as the last bits of winter solstice sunlight illuminated her beautiful German-farm-girl-like face. Maria faced her fellow citizens stripped of everything, the essence of her femininity, the essence of her very existence, laid bare to receive its final fate.

As soon as her shirt was off two other guards quickly began buckling leather straps tightly around her thighs and calves, while a third fastened a heavy leather belt around her waist. Maria's wrists were handcuffed in front of her and the handcuffs were clipped to the front of the belt.

The moment the cuffs were hooked to the belt, four guards lifted Maria Katzener's naked, shivering body as if it were a package and placed it on the guillotine body-board face up so that she would experience the final terror of seeing the huge blade falling toward her neck. Once her neck was locked in the stock, 31-year-old Maria was left to stare up at the heavy blade as the silent crowd watched her naked chest rise up and down as she took her final breaths.

Theresa screamed as Maria's severed head hit the tin metal catch-pan with a bang. Several witnesses could be heard vomiting as the crowd stood in stunned silence at the beautiful girl's sudden slaughter. As Theresa sobbed at her friend's brutal killing, the Colonel turned to the camera and shouted "Heil Hitler" as he delivered a sharp Nazi salute.

As Maria's headless nude body was unceremoniously lifted off the guillotine and dropped onto the band platform floor, Theresa's shirt was unbuttoned before the crowd, exposing her tortured nipples, her red, belt-marked butt, and her clean-shaved femininity. As the Colonel began to recite the same death sentence he had delivered to Maria, the now totally naked Theresa spat in his face, then quickly turned to the camera and shouted "Hitler is a pig fucker, and a boy-pig fucker at that."

As the somewhat inebriated throng burst into laughter at the 34-year-old's act of final defiance, Colonel, whipping spittle from his chin, screamed "shut off that camera! Shut it off goddamn it!"

The Colonel's neurotic rant only further entertained the crowd, which was now laughing hysterically. Totally embarrassed at his sudden inability to control the proceedings, the humiliated Colonel shouted for the laughing crowd to disburse.

"Go home, go home mein damen und herren" he yelled to the crowd with a faux smile then turned, seething with anger, and yelled at the guards to return the belligerent divorcee to the courtyard inside his private compound.

As the crowd disbursed the Colonel gave detailed instructions to his sergeant-of-the-guards as to Frau Wasserturm's further care. Once back in the courtyard, guards tied her arms firmly behind her and place a spreader bar between her ankles while several others used a tall ladder to secure a rope and pulley to a strong, high limb of the giant oak tree which adorned the center of the courtyard.

As the whipmaster entered the courtyard carrying a long hoop of what looked like clothesline cord, another crew of guards began erecting a single section of 12-foot-high painter's scaffolding near the rope and pulley. The whipmaster approached Theresa and began to tightly bind each of her large breasts with the cord, weaving a chrome attachment ring securely to the top of each, and tying each tit so tight it turned blue. As each pendulous breast swelled from the binding it further tightened the cord to the base of the mushrooming bosom. Once finished binding her tits the whipmaster fastened each shiny metal ring to a rope which trailed down from the overhead pulley. From the corner of her eye Theresa could see a glowing coal fire licking up from a galvanized steel bucket across the courtyard. As she watched a guard placed two fireplace pokers into the eerily orange-glowing bucket.

The Colonel gazed down at the whipmaster from the interior warmth of his dining room window and motioned with a single finger. Upon the Colonel's silent command the whipmaster gradually placed his entire body weight on the uplink rope, slowly lifting Theresa's arm-bound, ankle-spread body entirely off the ground, stretching her breasts up from her body, almost over her head, in a horrifying distortion of her torso. As she moaned from the weight of her own body, the whipmaster tied off the rope to the base of the heavy portable scaffold.

As Theresa hung, her breasts stretched even more as she groaned aloud. After 15 minutes passed the Colonel stepped from his pantry door and walked briskly into the courtyard, pulling on his black leather gloves as he paced toward the fire bucket. Lifting a glowing hot poker from the coals he walked toward Theresa. As two guards held each end of the spreader bar from swaying, the Colonel carefully touched the end of the poker between Theresa's legs, burning her pee-hole. As she bucked back she reflexively released her bladder, urine from her urethral meatus splattering the Colonel's grey winter dress coat. "Shit" he exclaimed, touching her pussy again. Theresa convulsed again from the searing pain, her movements only further torturing her breast-hung body as she expended her last bit of energy.

Theresa was turned around as the two restraining guards each wrapped one arm around a lower leg, freeing their other hand to each grab a butt cheek and spread it wide open, all as the Colonel was handed a fresh glowing poker. This he proceeded to carefully touch to her tight anal ring. The scream could be heard into the village, shattering the perfect quiet of the dark German winter's night.

Theresa had now hung by only her titties for more than 20 eternal minutes as the whipmaster untied the rope hoisted her by her boobs up to the top of the 12-foot-high scaffold. There, two guards held her as the whipmaster securely tied off the rope at the base of the oak tree, first pulling it snug to her breasts, then adding about seven or eight feet of slack. As he finished the Colonel once again began to pronounce sentence.

"Frau Wasserturm, I tried to be nice to you; a nice, clean, quick guillotine send-off. But no, no you little bitch, you had to be a kleine-frauline-smarty-pants; you just had to me humiliate me in front of der volk. You fat bitch, I sentence you to a full-drop tit-hanging. And if you survive, your tits and pussy will be burned alive, and then fed to the village swine."

With these words the two guards to either side lifted Theresa up by her shoulders and thighs and threw the naked, tit-bound woman from the 4-meter high-scaffolding. As her heavy body fell, the slack in the rope played out, completely tightening just before her feet hit the ground. As it did, both of her mushroom-like, swollen, securely bound breasts were ripped from her chest by the weight of her own heavy, feminine form.

As the titless woman lay bleeding on the ground, still breathing, two guards approached her carrying the glowing coal bucket as another two positioned her on her back, spread eagle. A fifth younger guard heaved to vomit.

With a nod from the Colonel, the bucket was carefully poured over her bleeding chest and spread pussy. Theresa groaned and moved slightly as four guards quickly crouched and firmly held her wrists and ankles spread. As the hot orange coals charred her flesh the Colonel said "Die you filthy bitch" then snapped his heels and, raising his arm, bellowed "Heil Hitler."

As the woman let final gurgling sounds the Colonel instructed "Stay with her and let her burn" as he strode off to bed. "And get the guillotine out of here. I don't want to see it in the square when I wake up tomorrow morning."

Continued in Part Five

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