Chapter 9
The guards have come to the realization that you enjoy most of the abuse they've been heaping on you. That led them to start searching out more and more depraved ways to torture and use you, in hope of finding your breaking point.
One of them stumbled across the work of Dolcett on the internet and wondered if they could do it to you.
As much as the idea of impaling you on a spit and roasting you alive sounded like fun they decided they have to keep you alive. Too much paperwork if you die. And besides they're having far too much fun torturing you to have it end so soon.
Instead, they decide that they are going to impale you in the spit and roast you but only for half an hour.
There's a company picnic coming up for the 4th of July so it's the perfect time to barbecue you.
The picnic is being held in a clearing in the woods. It's warm and sunny and all the guards are relaxed, drinking, and happy. It would be a wholesome scene except for the naked sissy slut bound to the trees at the edge of the clearing. Standing, spread eagled, wrists and ankles tied to two trees.
The fire pit has been lit. They're just waiting for the fire to burn down and the coals to get hot.
While you're waiting to be "cooked" the warm summer breezes caress your naked, slutty, thicc body. Your nipples have grown hard, and your pathetic little cock is starting to stir too.
As the fire starts to die down your untied and led to the picnic table and told to climb up onto it. On your hands and knees, ass in the air, they start to prepare you for roasting.
Your hair is soaked and tied up. Herbs and onions are shoved into your boipussy. For flavour. An apple is pushed into your mouth. Not so much for flavour but only to make you look a like a roasting piglet.
They make you lay flat on the table and a large, round, stake is laid the length of your body. Ropes soon secure you to it. A wooden Frame is laid across your shoulders and you're soon bound to it as well. Lastly, a thick, long wooden stake is pushed deep into your gaping cunt and attached to the spit.
The entire time they're preparing you the guards talk about you in the 3rd person. They refer to you as "her" sometimes, but usually, "it".
Two burly guards grab each end of the spit and hoist you off the table. It's uncomfortable, but not quite painful. More than anything it's humiliating. You're a piece of meat, yet again, for their amusement. This time quite literally.
The heat hits you immediately when they put the spit in its rack. A small motor is going to rotate you over the fire, just like a fucking animal to be consumed.
It doesn't take long for the heat to start making you dizzy and light headed. It's also turning you on.
The heat licking at your useless cock with each rotation. The guards laughing at you and enjoying the spectacle.
After a few minutes they break out the barbecue sauce and start pouring it all over your limp body. Covering you, head to toe in sticky sweet sauce. A bottle gets shoved up your ass and the sauce pours in to mix with the other ingredients already inside you.
You've lost track of time. You're hoping you don't have to endure too much more. You can feel your cock and balls starting to singe. Your tits are glowing hot. The pain is becoming almost too much to take. Your screams and pleading are muffled by the apple in your mouth. Not that any of them would take pity and offer you relief.
The last thing you remember hearing, before you passed out, is one of them saying "Three more minutes and then we'll take the meat off the fire."
You're awakened by a bucket of cold water being thrown on you. Every inch of your body feels like it's been sunburnt. To make matters worse you're covered in sticky sweet barbecue sauce.
The guards want to get you cleaned up a little before the next stage of the festivities bit there's no hose to spray you down with. Then a brilliant idea emerges.
You're tossed on the ground, still tied to the spit, and the four dogs that have been hanging around are called over. They quickly begin licking the sticky sweet sauce off of you. Their rough tongues dragging across your burnt body is agonizing. Because you're a sick fuck, you like it. You start to moan and wiggle around to give the dogs access to more of you. Especially your pathetic little cock.
A couple of the guards notice what you're doing and start to laugh. They point out to everyone that you're fucking enjoying it. Everyone agrees that you're the most depraved, filthy, amoral, piece of fuck meat they've ever seen. They're excited about it. It means they can do anything to you. No matter how depraved, degrading, disgusting, violent, or taboo.
While they are chatting about what to do next, one of the dogs lifts his leg and starts pissing on you. The hot stream feels scalding on your burnt skin. It splashes across your stomach and chest. Some of it gets up around your neck and you open your mouth, hoping to be able to drink some of it to relieve your incredible thirst.
Everyone has gone silent, watching in amazement. When the second dog starts pissing on your chest you wiggle around to take it in the face. The hot dog piss in your mouth giving you relief from the thirst and a fantastic thrill at being able to be so fucking filthy. It's at that moment that the last 2 dogs start pissing all over your hard, but pathetic, cock. Your moans of pleasure leave the guards, and their wives, laughing and cheering.
Because it's the 4th of July the guards have brought along a bunch of flags, firecrackers and decorations to celebrate the day.
The dogs have licked you clean and lost interest in pissing on you so everyone is looking for a new amusement.
It's time to do some decorating.
You're untied from the spit and another bucket of ice cold water is thrown on your limp body. As you lay there, dazed, aroused, humiliated, you wonder what fucked up thing they could possibly have in mind.
A kick to the ribs gets you on your back. A couple more kicks and you're spread eagle in the grass.
One of the wives has brought a bunch of small flags. The paper ones with a wooden stick. She wants to shove them in your piss hole. The only problem is you've gone limp. It would be much easier if your clit was hard. It only takes her a moment to figure out how to get you hard again. She drops her panties, lifts her dress, squats over your face and starts to piss. It works like a charm. You can't help yourself. You open your slut mouth and drink it all down as quickly as you can. The shame and humiliation does what it was intended to do. Your useless cock is nice and hard again.
With her cunt still firmly pressed to your face she begins sliding the stick of the flag down into your cock. You're so embarrassed and ashamed at how much you're loving this treatment.
She manages to push two more flags into your pisshole. As she hops off your face she tells you to get the fuck up. You're exhausted and hesitant. A quick kick in the head and a slap across the face gets your moving. Your struggle to your feet.
She instructs you to show everyone how patriotic you are and to start waving the flags. Your efforts aren't even close to what she wants and she kicks you in the ass, over and over, making you stumble around, and making your faggot clit wiggle. The laughter from the crowd is so fucking humiliating and you wonder what the fuck is wrong with you that you love it.
That's when someone suggests that they should tun you into a proper flag pole.
Chapter 10

Having grown tired of watching your futile attempts to wave the little flags jammed in your pisshole the wives have decided to turn you into a “proper” flag pole.

A shovel is tossed at your feet and you’re ordered to start digging. They want a hole two feet deep and 3 feet wide. And you had better hurry the fuck up. Your efforts are decent to being but because of all the abuse you’ve endured so far today you start to tire and slow down. A crack of the whip then the sting as it bites into your ass. You dig faster. Another crack and another stripe across your sissy ass. You don’t speed up digging but your clit starts to involuntarily grow. This prompts laughter and ridicule from the guards, and particularly, the women. They can’t believe just how much of a pathetic, pain and abuse craving, sissy slut you really are.

Before too long the hole is complete. She shoves you to your knees at the edge of the hole, facing it. Turning to one of the other wives she says, “Jenn, bring the big flag and pole over here. We’re going to do this up right. Real patriotic.” She shoves you forward, so that you fall into the hole. Because of the size of the hole only your upper body fits. Your ass is in the air, sticking straight up. Completely gaping and exposed.

As she hands over the flagpole Jenn says, “I don’t think it’s going to fit. It’s way to big.” It’s not going to matter if it’s too big or not. One way or another it’s going in your cunt. Lubed, dry. No one cares.

The fat, wooden, flag pole is pushed up against the entrance to your cunt and pressure is slowly applied. It’s starting to work its way in. You do your best to relax and push out, to get the pole in your cunt without too much pain and tearing. It helps, but there is still so much of the huge pole to go.

She starts to lose patience with the progress and starts shoving harder and harder. Your cries for her to please stop are, obviously, ignored and you’re told to shut the fuck up and take it. You’re reminded that you’re only there to entertain them. Your pain doesn’t matter. Besides, she says, your hard clit says you’re enjoying it. She makes you admit you like it. You have to yell, loudly, for everyone to hear, that you like having the flag pole shoved up your ass.

Jenn starts to help. Between the two of them they’re able to force the pole deep into your cunt. Judging by how full you feel, you think there’s about two feet of hard wood up inside you. You’re ashamed of yourself for being proud of how much you can take.

Once it’s firmly in place a flag is attached to pole. It gently unfurls in the breeze. The wind playing with the cloth makes the pole move around in your cunt, pushing it from side to side. It feels like the wind is fucking you.

Your told that you cannot let the flag fall. It’s disrespectful. If it falls you’ll be beaten unconscious.
The group goes back to drinking, snacking and playing games, leaving you there. An object to amuse them.
After about half an hour you notice the dogs are sniffing around you, curious as to why you’re there. Realizing you’re not moving much they conclude you’re not a person and start pissing on you, like they would any tree, bush or shrub. At first they piss on your ass, because the flag pole is a natural place for them to piss. Eventually though they piss on your shoulders, back and face. Because you’re in the hole it’s really convenient for them to piss all over you.
Everyone sees it happening but there’s no way they’re going to stop it. It’s way too funny. Hell, not only are they not going to stop it, they’re going to join in. For the next hour you endure an almost non-stop rain of piss. All over your back and ass, all over the back of your head. In your face. So much in your face. Each time someone pisses in your face you open your mouth and drink in as much as you’re able. You try to be subtle about it so they don’t see you drinking it but eventually you’re caught. It’s decided that if you’re going to do that you might was well be a urinal for them for the rest of the evening. From that point on all of the piss, and theres so much because of all the beer drinking, is aimed at your mouth.
The sun is starting to fade from the sky. The coming darkness signals the next stage of the days festivities. The fireworks display is going to be amazing this year!

Sherry and the beach party

Sherry is a 26 year old woman, kind of plain, and chubby. She works at a Dinner, she has not had many dates as most see her and just pass her by. She is one of those that are here but no one pays munch attention to.

So When Jim started to talk to her, and come to her table at the dinner, she was delighted, he had even asked her to movies, and out to dinner, she grew to trust jim. Little did she know that jim had planes for her.

They had not gotten romantic yet other than some petting and kissing, she hoped that they would have sex at some time soon, but it just did not seem to be the right time. She did enjoy when jim played with her breast, making her nipples hard.

The summer stretched on, and near the end of August, jim told her about a beach party that he and his fraternity held each year at the lake. He told her there would be food, drink, some wild partying and a bonfire to finish off the weekend. He thought to himself that she is perfect for there party.

Sherry told jim yes she would love to go, and she had not met any of his fraternity brothers or there girls. She decided to go to the mall and get new outfit for the party. She was hoping that this would be a week end of sex and fun, so she went to Victoria’s secret, and bought matching bra and panties, sexy shorts and a blouse, all saying come get me, she smiled as she looked at them and was dreaming of a fun weekend.

The weekend came and jim picked up Sherry, and let her know she was looking so good in her new outfit, they were getting to the lake for the last day of the gathering, he explained to sherry that every one brought a donation to the bonfire, she assumed his was in the trunk, they drove, for hours, and finely got to the gathering, it was still early, and she enjoyed drink and food, the other girls there commented on her shorts and blouse, Sherry was so pleased, she had never had so munch attention paid to her.

As it got near sunset, the group started to pile bundles around a stake, for the bonfire, all the men and women there built up the pyre, Sherry looked at jim, and asked what was he going to pile on, he looked at her and said You!

It took a moment for it to sink in, then she said, what you mean ME? He told her that he was going to put her on the pyre, and that she was going to be this years offering, he explaned to her that each year they burn a woman as a offering for a good year to come.

Sherry, screamed, but I don’t want to die or be burned! About than, four men, grabed her, and took her to the pyre, as she kicked and struggled, she was taken up, to the top, and her hands clasped into hand cuffs, she was than left to stand, no other bindings. She twisted and turned; looking around, crying, please don’t do this!

The group gathered, at the pyre, Sherry seen two cameras set up, , one was already filming, as it caught her being taken to the pyre. She struggled and begged to be freed, she was sweeting, and having trouble controlling her breathing as she was screamingShe seen Jim, and begged him to not hurt her, she offered all that she had, including herself to not be burned to death. He just smiled and she seen him toss her over night bag, and purse on the pyer, jim saying you wont need this any longer.

She was standing there, watching them light the torches to be used to light the pyre, jim was watching her, as she wet her self, soaking her shorts, and streams of pee running down her legs. He smiled at her fear.

Jim asked her if she was ready to die, she screamed NO! GOD NO !!, with that jim and three others shoved the torches into the pyre, the flames, started to grow fast. as the wood and kindling was all dry

The flames spread around the pyre, and started to rise toward her, she stomped her feet, at the burning bundles, She screamed as the flames were wrapping around her shoes, and lapping at her cafes. Her screams became intense with the unbearable pain. Her begging to be freed was ignored., the fire grew, and was scorching her thighs, she was moving from side to side trying to free her self from the flames, but they are all around her there is no relife. as the skin turned red than blistered her screams become primal. Her shorts had dried and now turned brown and ignited, burning her sex, the sex she had hoped to have was sex with the fire. She banged her head on the post as the flames climbed her body, burning away the shorts and blouse leaving her near nude, her body sweating and seeping fat ,her sweet and fat from her skin was dripping into the flames creating flare ups, her breast now burning, the screaming changes to a mumble than nothing, as her blonde hair erupts as her head falls forward.

The group all thank Jim for the offering, as the fire finishes sherry. Jim turns to the camera men, asks if they got all the shots, both men smiled, as jim told them he already had a buyer for the film, and it would finance the group for the year, Sherry had no idea she had been chosen to be a sacrifice and the main event for a snuff film.

the funny thing about motherless and other anon chan porn img boards is that we're a bunch of weird, fucked up, semi-bigoted and intelligent people--most of whom participate in society in a pretty wide range of functions, including doctors, teachers, lawyers, police officers, former military, to name a few--and here we are all talking about some seriously taboo shit that's so totally strange that people would never have talked about it before the internet without getting like, burned at a stake. it's amazing to me that organizations like naambla even existed before the internet, although i guess with how overtly political sex became in the 1970s, it makes sense.

foucauldian analysis theorizes again and again that all of our relations enforce a patriarchal sexual order that enslaves all of us to a societal panopticon, the watchful entity that keeps you from running red lights when you're at an empty intersection in the dead of night, or from trying to steal even when you could get away with it--and that this matrix of power manipulates the energy of our sexuality towards its own goals.

it's important to understand that foucault isn't proposing a conspiracy, but rather a natural progression of cooperative and conglomerated interests geared, on one end, towards finding out what satisfies us, and on the other end, to use that information to encourage participation in the construction of a society with an overarching goal: in early western civilization's case, which is now the case all over the world, that goal is production, a blind word that on its flip side means profit. whether this is good or bad is besides the point. the concept of profit, like pretty much every concept that comprises the grand concept of human existence, can be used for good or evil purposes.

the point of talking about this matrix of power over our sexuality is that it distorts our sexuality: sex, at its psychological bottom line, is meant to be an exercise in power--thus "the chase," S&M, the "stud," etc--but offset power balances in early and influential relationships also trigger psychological attachments to certain types of power play--take, for instance, the classic serial killer archetype, who often comes from an abusive family or home situation (ie. dahmer and his father, gacey and his father, fish and an orphanage).

so here we are, obviously all fucked up with our strange fetishes that we can't talk about--yet anonymity provides us with the ability to communicate and acknowledge a connection in the formations that have been molded in our psychosexual landcapes. i think what we do here, sharing our stupid stories and talking about who we'd like to take, is a small but important step towards destabilizing a system that feeds on our secret desires and fears.

its the first moment in history (by moment i mean in terms of all history, so like this decade) that we can be so open in our deepest, sickest thoughts-- and i think having such an outlet affects how we act towards other people in real life, too. i know it does for me, i just feel more open about sex and stuff. at least with people i'm close to, anyway.

i think this is all tied in with violence on television and in video games as well--something inside of us wants to see destruction and its not only healthy to express it, its possibly important, because it borders on truths that people aren't conscious enough to have realized yet. underground rock and rap music have been influencing people towards honesty with raw or "shocking" emotions for decades now, and some could argue that the whole history of good art is just a progression of shocks to our consciousness. these ideas and subcultures have undoubtedly influenced the mainstream--but in terms of exploring the reality of our basest instincts, people need to be talking about violent sexuality. it's key to realizing the relationship between power and sexuality that has enslaved men and women to a system of their own creation for centuries.

wow who read all of that? LOL thanks for sticking through it.

Your Awakening .....Some of you need it. Hope this helps.

A time comes in your life when you finally get�when, in the midst of all your fears and insanity, you stop dead in your tracks and somewhere the voice inside your head cries out�ENOUGH1 Enough fighting and crying and blaming and struggling to hold on. Then, like a child quieting down after a tantrum, you blink back your tears and begin to look at the world through new eyes.

This is your awakening.

You realize it�s time to stop hoping and waiting for something to change, or for happiness, safety and security to magically appear over the next horizon.

You realize that in the real world there aren�t always fairy tale endings, and that any guarantee of �happily ever after� must begin with you�and in the process a sense of serenity is born of acceptance.

You awaken to the fact that you are not perfect and that not everyone will always love, appreciate or approve of who or what you are�and that�s OK. They are entitled to their own views and opinions.

You learn the importance of loving and championing yourself�and in the process a sense of new found confidence is born of self-approval.

Your stop complaining and blaming other people for the things they did to you � or didn�t do for you � and you learn that the only thing you can really count on is the unexpected.

You learn that people don�t always say what they mean or mean what they say and that not everyone will always be there for you and everything isn�t always about you.

So, you learn to stand on your own and to take care of yourself�and in the process a sense of safety and security is born of self-reliance.

You stop judging and pointing fingers and you begin to accept people as they are and to overlook their shortcomings and human frailties�and in the process a sense of peace and contentment is born of forgiveness.

You learn to open up to new worlds and different points of view. You begin reassessing and redefining who you are and what you really stand for.

You learn the difference between wanting and needing and you begin to discard the doctrines and values you�ve outgrown, or should never have bought into to begin with.

You learn that there is power and glory in creating and contributing and you stop maneuvering through life merely as a �consumer� looking for you next fix.

You learn that principles such as honesty and integrity are not the outdated ideals of a bygone era, but the mortar that holds together the foundation upon which you must build a life.

You learn that you don�t know everything, it�s not you job to save the world and that you can�t teach a pig to sing. You learn the only cross to bear is the one you choose to carry and that martyrs get burned at the stake.

Then you learn about love. You learn to look at relationships as they really are and not as you would have them be. You learn that alone does not mean lonely.

You stop trying to control people, situations and outcomes. You learn to distinguish between guilt and responsibility and the importance of setting boundaries and learning to say NO.

You also stop working so hard at putting your feelings aside, smoothing things over and ignoring your needs.

You learn that your body really is your temple. You begin to care for it and treat it with respect. You begin to eat a balanced diet, drinking more water, and take more time to exercise.

You learn that being tired fuels doubt, fear, and uncertainty and so you take more time to rest. And, just food fuels the body, laughter fuels our soul. So you take more time to laugh and to play.

You learn that, for the most part, you get in life what you deserve, and that much of life truly is a self-fulfilling prophecy.

You learn that anything worth achieving is worth working for and that wishing for something to happen is different than working toward making it happen.

More importantly, you learn that in order to achieve success you need direction, discipline and perseverance. You learn that no one can do it all alone, and that it�s OK to risk asking for help.

You learn the only thing you must truly fear is fear itself. You learn to step right into and through your fears because you know that whatever happens you can handle it and to give in to fear is to give away the right to live life on your own terms.

You learn to fight for your life and not to squander it living under a cloud of impending doom.

You learn that life isn�t always fair, you don�t always get what you think you deserve and that sometimes bad things happen to unsuspecting, good people�and you lean not to always take it personally.

You learn that nobody�s punishing you and everything isn�t always somebody�s fault. It�s just life happening. You learn to admit when you are wrong and to build bridges instead of walls.

You lean that negative feelings such as anger, envy and resentment must be understood and redirected or they will suffocate the life out of you and poison the universe that surrounds you.

You learn to be thankful and to take comfort in many of the simple things we take for granted, things that millions of people upon the earth can only dream about: a full refrigerator, clean running water, a soft warm bed, a long hot shower.

Then, you begin to take responsibility for yourself by yourself and you make yourself a promise to never betray yourself and to never, ever settle for less than you heart�s desire.

You make it a point to keep smiling, to keep trusting, and to stay open to every wonderful possibility.

You hang a wind chime outside your window so you can listen to the wind.

Finally, with courage in you heart, you take a stand, you take a deep breath, and you begin to design the life you want to live as best as you can.