A Halloween Tale 2
by Jackie Rabbit
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© Copyright 2015 - Jackie Rabbit - Used by permission
Storycodes: Solo-F; M+/f; halloween; majick; captive; gag; strip; naked; bond; rope; cuffs; collar; transport; village; medieval; platform; susp; display; public; bdsm; whip; torment; sex; dream; cons/reluct; XX
Ghoul-gle jpn
A Halloween Tale 2 Jackie Rabbit Solo-F; M+/f; halloween; majick; captive; gag; strip; naked; bond; rope; cuffs; collar; transport; village; medieval; platform; susp; display; public; bdsm; whip; torment; sex; dream; cons/reluct; XX
story continued from part one

Part 2: Trick or treat?

I asked myself this silently from the inside of the sack covering my head after being abandoned once again by my dream guide Lars, a discernible pattern forming between us. It was after all still Halloween, and this but a dream despite the uniqueness of it, possibly inspired by something that had been on the TV while falling asleep.

At the Halloween party I had just been an invisible spectator, and bound in place and helpless as I was by my own dare still not there in a physical way. I had been abandoned there when I dared Lars, he making no secret of the fact that I was to learn something though, where other dreams I had over the years with a message were usually more subtle.

This was different, I was physically here with these men, a participant, in a dream kind of way. It was all very confusing to me. I had felt the terror of the hunt and my bodies perspiration as I ran naked for my very life, and even the dirt on my bare feet and the twigs where they scratched at me. That part, (being hunted down like an animal), had been like a nightmare, but if it was that terrifying why did I not just wake with my heart pounding like I had countless other times?

Even the men's calloused hands felt as real as they could be as they roughly handled my naked body after my capture. The net with which they subdued me like an animal just as real, as was the sack over my head trapping me in darkness. I could even taste the bitterness of the rolled leather bit that they had shoved into my mouth and then tied off behind my head to prevent me from casting any more spells. I smelled them as well, along with my own recycled humid breath from inside the sack covering my head.

Lars was true to his words though, the men had yet to really hurt me. My elbows were pinned together behind me in what should have been painful restraint, or at the very least such a position should have caused cramping as I wasn't all THAT flexible. They had mashed my body into the earth face down to bind me, my sensitive buds grinding into the dirt and stones beneath me with the men's hands and knees in my back, (as well as just about everywhere else), making sure I didn't escape as a dozen pairs of hands pinned my struggling body firmly. Rough treatment to be sure, but not nearly as painful as if I were acting this out for real. It was more of a sensation, I knew what they were doing to me, but more importantly, I knew what I wanted them to do to me.

Trick or treat? This seemed an obvious treat from Lars for my selfless sacrifice to rescue his stunningly sexy charge, or at least to provide the diversion so that he could rescue her himself. A lusty dream treat from my handsome dream tour guide in exchange for my almost empathy, as were my missing chains in exchange for my almost forgiveness of my cheating almost spouse at an opportune time. The motivation for my apparent charity was less clear to me, but I had made the choice to help and seemed almost about to reap my reward.

I didn't dream about making romantic love in "those" dreams like the good girls did. I dreamt about rough and raw things, of dungeons and restraints, and of the taking of what isn't necessarily offered. They were passionate dreams where I struggled and played out fantasy scenario's that most rational women wouldn't want to in real life, I waking in the morning in my bed with the sheets scattered about the room in a sweaty heap and smelling of solo sex.

At least that's the way it worked in every other one of "those" dreams, especially since I had become single once again (if the passion was high enough), the German tour guide I had briefly met while a teenager on a field trip staring in several of them. I now knew that nameless man from my past as Lars, but this version was muscular, and a dream tour guide for me instead of a ruthless interrogator that was trying to wring some secret or confession from my tortured body. In those dreams he had employed some of the very things I had touched on my tour of that museum several years earlier to attempt to loosen my tongue, giving up however before he got too far along to instead have his way with my bound body.

Dream torture therefore became like foreplay for me, putting any flesh and blood man at an instant disadvantage. It was difficult to find a man who understood my needs, and more so to find one who wanted to participate in my uniqueness if one could even broach the subject. I didn't necessarily want to be tortured in the living world either, just bound and made helpless with the threat of such things over my head. I had smacked myself with a crop and a belt in the waking world as an experiment, it stung, but I didn't have the ability to cause myself real pain either. Some invisible force stopped my hand from doing so, I could go right to the edge of what I thought I could endure and no further, either making me a sissy, or at least somewhat rational.

There was again conflict, and choice, several of them in fact. I making one such choice when I had elected by default to stay behind while Lars attended to someone else who needed his services more than I, just as I elected to stay home by myself and be miserable and bitter on this Halloween night. I had doubts in the very back of my mind with how realistic this particular dream felt, but dream Lars himself had suggested that this could be a dream if I wanted it to be, and he further alluded to the fact that it could be any kind of dream I wanted as well...

...I then thought as hard as I could in an attempt to sway this dream of mine in a more pleasurable direction. "Take me you dream peasants, you hunted me down and captured me, and now I'm your prize. Do whatever you like with me, be creative, I couldn't stop you if I wanted, can't even scream for help."

...I then tried just a little darker taunting in my mind when nothing happened. "I'm bound and helpless, I know you guys get off on that seeing what you had in store for the beauty I stole away from you."

I knew there was about a dozen of them around me in my dream before they had placed the sack over my head, and the riders who mercilessly drove me toward the net like hounds to the hunters now approaching the ambush location as well by the sounds of the horse's hooves on the dirt.

"Oh, you'll have to share now you poor little devils, and take turns, and we could even be at this all night long if things go as they may. Maybe I had you guys all wrong though, maybe you'd like it if I struggled instead, give you big strong men a reason to be just a little more aggressive with me..."

I then rolled my body sinuously to physically tempt the men as they continued to hold me, their hands finally clenching and molesting the bare flesh within their grasp, I delivering my silent physical message when my dream thoughts didn't appear to work.

...My hood was eventually pulled off after some more anonymous groping, and I beckoned the man closest with my eyes, my message finally received...

"The others won't expect us back for hours my friends, and this one's body entices as much as any other. Lets have some fun with this one before we give her over to the executioner, to bring her back in such good shape seems such a waste anyway with what he likely has in store for her. I'll wager that this one can be made to do things that our own women won't, or shouldn't."

"Oh this IS going to be fun" I thought.

"She's enchanting you my friend" one of the other men offered as he put his hand on the other's shoulder affectionately. "It would be wiser to deliver her to the executioner as is, it will be just as much fun to watch what he has in store for her, and considerably safer as well, she is a witch after all."

...I then realized that this must be Lars' idea of a sadistic joke, a trick instead of a treat as I translated again in my mind. I naked and chained in my dream and surrounded by men in the forest, and not one of them in possession of the courage required to properly take advantage of what lay literally within their grasp, my frustration driving me to the edge of insanity...

"Have at it you animals" I tried to say past my gag. "Pass me around like a bottle of wine, I won't tell, can't possibly tell with this huge frickin gag in my mouth anyway. Can't even bite you, not that I would... You fools have NO idea what your missing, or how badly I need this, or even the things I could do with this mouth that you can't possibly know... If nothing else, PLEASE for the love of Pete unbind me and I will do it myself, you can even watch if you want, I know you guys like to watch."

When I had finished my gagged rant the men didn't look like they wanted to even be touching me any more, (let alone do anything else), I obviously from their point of view trying to turn the entire mob of them into something useful with my witches' tongue, like a sex toy I thought without humor.

...Trick or treat indeed. This was instead a trick, and a cruel one to boot, I more frustrated than I ever remember being all thanks to Lars. He knew these cuffs and this rough attention would turn me on like mad, because I knew they would turn me on like mad. He obviously a sadistic dream fiend hiding in that handsome body of his, a wolf in sheep's clothing if I ever saw one, and probably right at this instant entertaining the stunning and grateful woman I just helped escape...

The cowardly men then brought out some rope after conferring quietly, they theorizing that any collar or cuffs I were to be found wearing must be cursed on, and therefore not removable by my own witches' magic and a safe point at which to bind me. They suspected my "magic" had allowed the other woman to slip her cuffs and disappear before them, and they didn't wish a repeat performance scared as they apparently were of me and my poison tongue.

It was at least a logical dream premise, and there was an element of truth to it as well. I no longer was burdened with the heavy chains secured by my failure to forgive, but what still held the cuffs about my appendages was a mystery to me, and had I the ability to remove them myself I may well have. At this moment though, if I had the ability to wake from this nightmare and take matters into my own hands I would have done that instead. That was again another choice, but one I was apparently not permitted to make until I learned whatever it was that Lars wanted me to.


I had been driven deep into the woods in my attempt to escape, and I had no doubt now that the men would to bring me all the way back to that platform and the executioner as quickly as possible to be rid of me, (likely before I shriveled their manliness with my witchcraft, or some such other nasty thing). It would however be a long walk back, and I watched their plan unfold with morbid fascination, wondering where such sadistic thoughts originated in the male human mind.

A rope about forty feet long was halved in the hands of the man who talked his friend out of taking me while he could, he then tying the center of it off to my cuffs behind my back. At his command my legs were pulled apart and I held fast by several frightened men, the two lengths of rope fed forward between my legs and threaded into the ring at my collar directly under my chin.

The horses were then brought over, one positioned on each side of me left and right, the loose end of each rope handed to a rider. Each man tied off the rope to one of the four horns on his strange saddle, the likes of which I had never seen before. It looked to me like a small platform mounted atop the animal, and just about as comfortable I wagered.

The left horse was made to step left, and the right horse stood fast as the slack was taken out of the rope, the men watching their plan come to fruition with glee. The rope anchored to my wrists eventually pulled taunt, driving it into the cleft of my butt, and then over top the cleft of my womanhood. When the rope had been slack it had the natural tendency to lay outside of my breasts coiled as it was, but as the tension increased my neck was pulled up and left by my loose collar under my chin, and the taunt rope mashed my breasts together before snapping over my buds stinging them mercilessly in it's effort to lay between them instead. All this happened near simultaneously and was indeed painful, not unbearably so, but it still seemed a contradiction to what Lars had told me.

I got up on my toes to lesson the strain on my body on instinct as I was jerked dancingly to the left, the men having a good time of watching my struggles as I fought for balance, none of them now needing to hold me and seemingly grateful for their friends ingenuity. My arms were pulled back under my butt and my spine arched until my toes left the dirt and I was suspended and nearly choking by the sadistic crotch rope running up through my collar, it feeling like it was about to cut me in two as it burrowed its way into my womanhood, the pain just less than excruciating.

The humiliation I was feeling WAS excruciating, I a toy for these men, but not in any way I had intended.

The left horse stepped back in slightly, and both started to walk toward I presumed the gallows, I having a date with an executioner who had already been stood up once that day. The horses were made to walk slow, I getting lifted to my toes if I failed to keep up in my bare feet as I was walked in parade fashion toward my doom...

I was eventually walked through the town triumphantly like a captured dangerous animal to be put on display, the villagers stepping out of their little houses and shops to follow my procession to the gallows and marvel at my torment. All of the ladies looked on with hidden contempt at my shameless exposure, and some schadenfreude at the situation the men had placed me in for the long walk back to town. Some no doubt thought the ropes intrusive presence buried as it was in the depths of my bald neither region was a pleasure, but nothing could have been farther from the truth.

By the time we reached the platform, (sometimes called the gallows interchangeably by the men who had captured me), the entire town seemed to be following me, they once again assembled to see justice handed out in rough and entertaining fashion. Instead of walking me up the steps to the platform though, first one, and then the other rope binding me to the horses strange saddles were tossed up to the masked executioner, the platform higher still than the heads of the mounted riders.

I was exhausted from my ordeal and could put up no resistance, not that it would have mattered, the masked man and two helpers from the mob that captured me up on the platform to help him do the deed. I was hoisted up by the men, the rope digging in deep as my back once again arched and my collar threatened to strangle me, although my bound arms and the apex area of my thighs held almost all of my weight. It was not a smooth motion either, there being several bumps along the way as the men pulled the rope hand over hand uncooperative, each at times pulling me more in one direction that the other.

I groaned into my gag as the spectators laughed at my plight, the rope untwisting as they lifted me, causing my body to rotate so the crowd could see my agony from every angle, and what was causing it. It looked as if I were thrusting my chest and pelvis out lewdly to taunt them, but I had no choice bound and lifted as I was, I coming to the conclusion that Lars' words earlier about the men not being able to hurt me were an obvious lie.

Once on the platform it was actually a relief, my legs once again bearing my bodies slight weight as they were intended. That relief was short lived though, I apparently to take the position and punishment of the beauty I had spared, her fate now my own. I now at least understood why she wanted out of this nightmare as frantically as she did though.

A stool was placed in front of me and pointed to, it clear they wanted me to participate in my own demise. I thought for a moment in horror that they were about to hang me, I bound for the occasion and once standing on that stool needing little else for a short drop hanging except for the noose. Would the assembled crowd cheer and laugh as I spun on that rope as well, bicycling my legs to no avail in search of some firm ground beneath once the stool was kicked out from under them?

I then wondered if this is how one dies in their sleep, such would explain the uniqueness of this nightmare of mine, this potentially my last Halloween ever. I summoned the courage to look up before I stepped where I was bidden to though, there being no noose however hanging from the crossbar over my head with which to finish me off. The man with the tailed whip could still do the same deed much more slowly and far more agonizingly if he wished, not to mention entertainingly so for those inclined to watch. Except for the promise of unimaginable pain such display and punishment were deeply held fantasies for me, although I had no desire for this to be my last Halloween.

Would the crowd's blood lust be satisfied after their executioner extracted his pound of naked flesh with his whip? Somehow I thought not in this place. Could the noose for that matter, as cruel and slow as it potentially was, be a gift I not entitled to in this strange place, at least until I paid the full measure of my first debt to this mob?

The executioner saw the direction of my eyes and laughed, then addressing me in a low voice.

"There will be no such mercy for you witch. You will receive that which your friend earned first, and then what you have earned afterwards, if you survive. Have no worries though, I am quite skilled at this and can make you last for hours, even days under the right circumstances. It's a pity we must keep that witches' mouth of yours gagged while we have our fun though, I rather like the challenge of hearing all the different noises I can cause one like yourself to make with my whip."

I was roughly forced to sit and not stand on the stool however, my ankle cuffs attached one each to the chains near the base of the two timbers that had held the beauty I helped escape earlier. They were massive things that a truck couldn't break, and the men had to wrestle my legs into position as I pointlessly struggled with my exhausted muscles, their success a foregone conclusion. Once they had them both attached my legs were a little over four feet apart, not quite a split, but uncomfortably exposed to those in front of me. The men in the crowd could see everything, my neither regions agape with the position the chains had forced me into, as well as the intrusive rope they had used to ensure my cooperation as I walked toward my doom.

My arms were then unbound from behind my back and the intrusive rope rerouted to the ring on my collar and thrown over the crossbar, my arms at least feeling the slightest relief with my elbows not touching each other for the first time in what felt like hours, but they were far too sore to even move properly on my own, let alone resist their efforts. The other two chains on the posts were on a mechanism of some kind, I hearing it's clicking sounds as the heavy links were brought to my wrist cuffs and attached.

I didn't expect to be able to rest all that long sitting as I was, nor the apparent kindness of the water boy brought up on the platform with me, the executioner explaining that my thirst would not be permitted to spoil their fun. He also cautioned me that if I tried any spells while ungagged that I would pay dearly for them.

The water boy turned out to be a robe and hood wearing water man based on his size alone, he standing just out of my sight though. The gag was pulled free, but my mouth felt inclined to remain open as it had been held that way far too long by the bitter leather gag. We made eye contact, that man with the rope in his hands and I, he reminding me silently of what could happen if I tried anything by tugging on the rope attached to my neck, he then turning to call the water man over to do his deed before they did theirs. Out in the crowd though I saw everybody freeze in mid motion, as if this were a video and someone had just hit the pause button...


"You can speak now, but we must be brief" the "water boy" told me after he ducked his tall body under my right wrist chain and walked up to stand in front of me, I never being so happy to see another human being in my whole life. It was Lars, he holding two water skins, one brown, and one red, and I then noticed that the men on the platform with me were just as still as those in the crowd.

"What have you done to me?" I asked as well as I could, my mouth dry and not working properly though. "You told me that they couldn't hurt me!" My words coming out more like an accusation than I had intended, an unwise tone seeing the position I was in and my utter dependence on his charity.

"We were rather impressed with that I must say, you apparently have a healthy appetite for the rougher aspects of this place, as well as a refreshingly sadistic imagination. A crotch rope of all things, as a leash, what fun. I have done nothing to you by the way that you didn't desire on your own, thank you very much. I told you the truth earlier when I said you that you weren't safe here, not because of these barbaric villagers though, but because of yourself. The men here can't hurt you at all, not of their own will anyway, but you can hurt yourself vicariously through them all you want. It is your dream, in a way, and not a dream all at the same time. This is Halloween magic at it's best, or worst if you let your imagination run away with you."

"I don't understand" I croaked.

"That is apparent. For the half hearted forgiveness of your almost spouse you lost half of your bonds. For your half hearted empathy that revealed itself as nothing more than lusty envy in disguise, you received the gift of potentially experiencing that which you secretly wished for, although to be honest I was personally unclear if you wanted to watch, or participate. Then after you had yourself a wonderfully terrifying run from that mob they captured you as we all knew they would, but you then empowered those same men to 'have at it and be creative', a curious choice to be sure with all the other options open to you, but entertaining to watch all the same. Simply stated, your words here are nearly meaningless, the bitter gag should have told you this, however your true desires potentially unpleasant if you have a mind for such things, which we were delighted to see you do."

"Have it your way Lars, I still have more questions to ask", I said in exasperation, I seeing how this was getting twisted into being all my fault.

"We only have time for one more Kris, Halloween night is almost over in your part of the world, and the magic that makes this interaction possible will end with your sun rise. This is the reason we had to divert to rescue the stunning Caterina when we did, her sun being several hours ahead of your own. She is the woman whose place you are in right now by the way. This was HER dream place initially, before it became a nightmare for her. She also having a certain professional interest in the time period, as well as a desire to see if she could endure that which you still may, all for some very unselfish reasons in her case I might add."

"More on that later as our time is short, but needless to say we could all be seeing more of each other in the flesh if you would like, and if you so choose all you have to do is look for me in the same place you found me last time. Now, as to that last question, ask wisely Kris."

"How do I end this nightmare Lars?" I asked without delay.

"Simple. I have two water skins, if you choose to drink from the red one it will be as if we never met in your dreams, you will wake in your bed miserable and bitter from the wrong you perceive done to you exactly one year ago, and it will be as if you were never here. That of course means that the stunning Caterina will once again be at the mercy of the executioner, she never having been rescued, and she then forced to provide the entertainment this crowd lusts for in your place."

"Drink from the brown one and you will remember everything, every single thing in rich detail. Caterina will be safe though, and you in her place of your own free will with little room for any misunderstanding of the consequences. Make no mistake, you will be strung up before this mob to potentially experience something truly horrific, if that's where your dark and sadistic thoughts take you. You could also experience something much less so if that is what you truly wish instead. It will be informative to see how you choose, but once you do I will be little more than another spectator and powerless to help you should you have any second thoughts. No matter which you choose, when the sun on this horizon goes down, yours rises, and you will find yourself back in your bed once again."

"What if I choose neither Lars?" I asked rather proudly despite my raging thirst, I thinking I might have found a clever loophole to his conditions.

"That's a second question Kris, and I not obligated to answer, but if you were to choose neither water skin I would be forced to assume that you wanted to become a permanent resident of this place. Such would be a shame as we have plans for you that seem right up your proverbial alley, this little adventure of ours turning into an audition of sorts."

...I then made my choice with my eyes and drank deeply from the offered water skin, the "water" having a discernible kick to it however. When I had my fill Lars wished me well, (after soaking my gag for me with some of the excess contents) and popped out of sight with another showy snap of his fingers, the men about me once again moving and oblivious to what had just happened.


My hair was then wrapped up in a knot and held in place with the same leather strap that held my gag in place once again, I not entirely sure how things would turn out in this strange place though as Lars' words were somewhat ambiguous. I suspected now that what I truly wanted was what should happen, and I was terrified of the sadistic things that lay hidden deep in my subconscious. I had read and watched all mannerr of erotic peril, both on line and in the movies, and with those seeds firmly planted into my own fertile imagination anything was possible.

With a man each on the mechanisms that controlled my wrist chains, and another on the rope connected to my collar I was only going where they wished, or perhaps where I wished. My head was thrust up as I groaned, I having the presence of mind however to grasp the massive cuff chains to lessen the strain on my wrists out of reflex. My feet slid toward what felt like the edge of the platform, I not appreciating how close I were to be hauled off the very edge, I feeling like I were being suspended over the crowd instead of before them.

Before my butt was completely off of the stool that I had rested on briefly, it was pulled out from under me by the executioner's toe, my arms and neck feeling the strain and preventing me from falling backwards as the crowd laughed. The mechanisms acting on my wrist chains as they were pulled slowly toward the top of the posts could be felt clicking through my entire body, causing tremors in it and setting my breasts into motions that could only be described as lewd. I felt, but couldn't see their fluid reactions, my buds at the same time painfully erect and likely visible to the closer standing men, they no doubt assuming I was getting off on all this in pure witches' fashion.

My arms continued to lift me, there being no hurry to the men's actions, they apparently enjoying this preshow my body was made to provide before the main event. I felt several bones in my back and shoulders crack in relief when finally hauled into a standing spread eagle position at the edge of the platform, I not having a secret to be kept from the watching crowd.

At a signal from the executioner the men continued to lift me by my wrists, I coming up on my toes as my body was made to stretch out tautly. Still they continued, and I found myself fully suspended by my wrists, I thankful for my slight stature as compared to the lovely Caterina's, but I didn't remember seeing her rather perfect body in full suspension like my own.

The men lifted some more, they throwing their weight into the chain's mechanisms, I drawn between the chains at my ankles and wrists, I still managing to hold on desperately to the upper chains though. The rope at my collar was tied off to the cross bar left and right with the executioner borrowing my stool so he could reach, my head held high and straight ahead as if I were looking over the heads of the crowd in haughty arrogance. The chains that bound me also prevented me from falling off of that platform and into the crowd, they sending a mixed dream message to me, as did a great many other things in this place.

I then felt the executioner reach around and tap my taunt stomach with the butt end of his whip in inspection, it sounding like an empty drum to me, and apparently passing his test he dismissed his helpers handling the chains, they locked in position and not going anywhere. Another tap of his whip's handle between the gap at the apex of my thighs tested the tension of my protruding tendons there as well, I getting myself all squishy with the anticipation of what was to come.

The faces in the crowd that I could see looked as anxious as I, it debatable which of us was about to get the most from the experience. The whips handle was again used to prod my bound body, this time my breasts though as they were lifted and let drop, raking my aroused buds painfully as they did, their taunt position on my stretched chest not allowing all that much motion though as I groaned into my gag.

"Tender are they randy little witch?" the executioner observed quietly in my ear for me alone.

I had just accidentally given away a secret to this man who I was sure would take full advantage of such knowledge, he backing away from me as I steeled myself for that first blow. The sun was low on the horizon, but it was summer in this place and I knew that a full sunset can come slowly at this time of year. Had I made a poor choice? Any second, I realized, I would have that answer rather definitively one way or the other.

The man was a lefty, the swish of the whip's tails coming from left to right as he stood behind me, (there being no real room to stand in front of me now without falling from the platform). The tails contacted my left shoulder and dragged diagonally across my taunt back, the sensation taking a long moment to reach my brain. It hurt in a subdued way as my body danced on the chains in reaction to the blow, but it was much less than what I had done to myself experimentally with a crop once. A second and third blow landed on my back in descending fashion as the crowd cheered my apparent torment, they seeing my body's reactions rather than the actual chevron like stripes he was surely forming.

He then switched arms and did three more the other way, proving if nothing else that he thought symmetrically about such things, or possibly just that he was ambidextrous. I realized I could do this all night long, and almost any night as well, this easy out not what I now wanted. I had thought Lars had been telling me that I could choose the easy way out and trap his friend, or the whole package exclusively. This was instead more of an a la carte menu, or so it appeared to me.

I suspected I would never be at this proverbial restaurant ever again, and in light of such I decided to order up to see what I really liked without the real world consequences associated with such things. The appetizer was just that, a small preview of what this chef had to offer, and I now wished to test both our limits while others watched.

I laughed at his efforts from behind my gag, proving to the gasping and shocked spectators that I was either mad, or a witch for real. Three more blows from my hips down on each side, I sucking in a sharp breath with the first one that stung like mad, the tails allowed to wrap around my bare legs before being slowly withdrawn. The executioner grunted with every swing, the tails of his whip whistling through the air behind me with his efforts, I determined to make him work for every reaction torn from my bound body. At that instant he and I were competitors, he trying to take from me that which I had not decided to yet give up.

He striped my arms next with his whip, the tails again wrapping around them and needing force to pull free. My body jerked about and it felt as if it were going to resemble a tiger's before he was finished with me, he having a definite plan, like an artist with his canvas and brush.

...Countless more methodical strokes of his whip adorned my body, my resolve weakening as the sun began to set. The man had worked my body like a skilled lover over the preceding hours, I on display for what felt like an eternity, but in reality it had been relatively quick in the grand scheme of things, the less interested spectators drifting away in ones and twos as justice was served in apparently brutal fashion. Did those people expect to inspect the carnage of what was left of my tormented body in the morning as I continued to hang on display? If so they had a surprise coming.

It felt as if there were more parts of my body that had been kissed by the executioner's whip than hadn't, but several strategic areas had been avoided, until the masked man's apparent grand finale. The tails next cracked through the air between my left ear and shoulder, grabbing at the tender flesh of my left breast and beneath. A high pitched scream escaped from my gagged mouth, and another when he repeated the act for good measure, this time attempting to drag my tender flesh up over my shoulder with the tails of his whip. It was his turn to laugh at me, he finally getting my attention, but so close to sundown and the end of my ordeal.

I knew what was coming next, and that made it even worse as I pleaded into my gag for mercy. He waited me out, giving me a false hope that he would extend me some as almost nobody was left watching. The whip struck again, but this time it seemed even worse, I getting what I had asked for though, his sense of symmetry intact...

My world then went black, desensitized as I was from Lars' special drink and my own dark lust the whip's torment hit home, and I passed out from the sheer overload on my senses. The executioner and I had been in a competition, one I thought impossible to loose, but he had proven me wrong in the end.


I woke with a start, expecting to find myself in my bed as Lars had promised, but instead I found myself still suspended on that lonely platform with the executioner and I apparently alone. I was dripping wet and he holding a bucket while peeking around in front of me to see if I were once again awake, I wondering what had gone wrong.

There was one single patch of very sensitive flesh that hadn't been kissed by his whip as of yet, the rest of me feeling like a series of parallel and intersecting red welts, and freezing cold wet as I was. I knew what to expect, one obvious torment left to make sure I got the whole experience, just as I had asked for. I instead received a surprise from the man with the whip, and a choice, although it was an easy one to make.

"I could of course finish the job randy little witch, but it is customary to tip your executioner, and you have been a most enjoyable challenge." The man intimately close behind me and whispering in my ear. He then removed my gag and I exercised my jaw about before I spoke to him.

"I have but no coin on my person with which to do so sir" I answered. I thinking I understood what he was looking for. If I was right it would be far better than entertaining his whip there as well, the rest of me feeling unnaturally randy for what had been done to me so far. Such was the magic of Halloween I thought, and delightfully wicked dreams, and all this foreplay deserved something wonderful in return.

...He was a brute of a man with me as I hung there in my chains until the last rays of sun fell below the trees, but I needed that as it had been far too long without...

...I woke in my own bed as Lars had promised, sated and exhausted despite what should have been a refreshing nap on the couch. I obviously now had a vacation to plan, I wondering what Lars had in mind for me, and who the "we" was that he kept referring to, Halloween once again my favorite holiday...



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