The five goddesses

The main square of Ama City was full. The naked male slave were arranged on lines and rows, they stayed over their knees, handcuffed behind their backs, head bowed to the ground.

The black guard women rounded them, the girls dressed on her bra, G-String and high heel boots, and above-the-elbow gloves. They carried, each one, a long bullwhip on her hands.

The threatening slashes of the whips thundered against the rock slabs of the floor.

In the front of the lined slaves was a high wood platform, like a scaffold. Lady Kalena stood up over the tables of the platform.

Larissa watched the scene from the balcony of her room.

"Was that?" asked the Asian girl besides her.

"Maybe it’s going to be an execution, I guess."

"Perhaps there’re fifty males slaves down there."

"I think that ought to be many more, maybe locked on underground dungeons."

Down on the main square, an approaching carriage pulled by chained slaves went close to the wood podium. Standing on the carriage, was Empress Zahara, amazing like a Goddess, she dress a silver metallic bikini joined by chains, riding boots and her ever at hand leather plaited quirt. The long curls of her black shiny hair fell free behind her back. Next to The Empress was a guard woman driving the carriage, reins on one hand and a bullwhip on the other.

The driver girl slashes the men to make them move.

Lady Kalena went next to the carriage, walking over the table of the platform.

The carriage stopped. The empress jumped over the stage. She walked, a metallic noise ringing as her boots stomped the wood black tables.

One man on the third line of the assembled prisoners raised her head and glimpsed the stage.

He was caught by a near black guardian woman. She went close to the slave and whipped him hard on the face twice. The man cringed aside. The girl kicked him, and shoved the man out of the row. She used her whip to make him crawl ahead toward the stage.

Lady Kalena noticed the guardian and the slave arriving. When they were close the black girl talked: "My Mistress, this slave made a fault."

"Get him up here," answered Lady Kalena, "we will make two executions."

The girl attached a chain into the neck collar of the slave. He was quivering. The girl pulled him to the stair and up to the platform.

He looked pale, thin and weak, just like a cadaver. Lady Kalena saw him with disgust, she was so beautiful and powerful that seen a scum like that trigger on her a surge of repugnance. She felt a need of smack him, to break every one of his bones and to spill out every drop of his blood.

The Empress Zahara had sat down on a tall black wood throne on the middle of the stage.

She made a sign and Lady kalena get close.

Zahara cross her long beauty legs.

"Kalena, make announce, the slave will suffer the bullwhip."

"As you wish my Mistress, there is another worm that made a fault and must be punished."

"Okay, I let you to decide the kind of his chastisement."

"Thank you, my mistress."

Lady Kalena took a megaphone, put it end near her red sensual lips and talked.

"Today, ladies of Ama City, a slave had been sentenced to public punishment, the worm will be bullwhipped. Another one had been caught disobeying orders, that filthy worm is sentenced to… bonfire. Now bring the first criminal."

Two black girls went up, they escorted a chained prisoner, he trudged, moving awkwardly, his bare buttocks were severely hurt, ripped out by intense caning, but the blood was dry. He was the slave that Zahara canned on the tower chamber.

The women ushered him to a strong black wood structure, like a square high frame, two columns and a straight beam on top between.

They put the man standing under the beam, lift her arms and tied them by the wrist with thick ropes. They forced him to stretch her arms and legs, putting him in a spread eagle position. The ankles of the man were tied too.

"Now, filthy worms," barked Lady Kalena over the megaphone, "raise your damned heads and see what will happen to you if you don’t cooperate and work for become into submissive and meek women’s slaves."

Each one of the two black girls took on her gloved hands a long single leather bullwhip.

"That the punishment begins!" shout aloud Lady Kalena.

One of the black girls flogged the man all across his naked back. It left a red mark over the skin. It was a very strong beating even from the start.

The other woman took a step behind the slave, he was facing the throne, and his back was pointing to the crowd. He could see at The Empress on her full beauty, seated down like a black goddess, dressed with her black riding boots and her silver metal bikini that resemble a sexy warrior armour. She was grinning.

He got another slash, hard leather against bare skin.

He twisted pulling his ropes, it was useless. He was tight tied, firmly fixed to the wood frame.

The pair of whipping girls had beautiful, athletic bodies; they fitted nice the suit of the guardian women.

The punishment went on. The defenceless slave endured it. After a time he began to cry, tears slid down his cheeks.

The Empress Zahara laughed at his tears.

"Let’s see who spill out the first blood," said Lady Kalena over the megaphone.

The slaves gathered on the main square watched the cruel punishment. They remained still and quiet.

The sadistic mistresses never played soft. Those women liked to make brutal hurting. They ruled over the pain and fear.

On the back of the tied man begin to appear drops of red blood.

He cried and yelled aloud, like an injured animal.

"Oh, I think that he like it. Beat him stronger!" commanded Kalena.

The incoming slashes sounded even more powerful as the leather exploded against the flesh.

"You guardian women, are not making your best effort, he hasn’t serious wounds yet," reproved Kalena.

The women tried to harden the flogging.

Larissa was still watching the show from the balcony of the high tower. Her elbows were resting over the stone balustrade of the ledge. Her lovely chin was leaning between her gloved hands. She has taken out her black leather boots, and her feet were bare aside for the dark silk stockings she wore. The girl’s buttocks look wonderful under her tight black leather miniskirt.

A gust of air swung the golden strands of the girl’s hair.

"Look, Kwan Yin, Kalena is hastening the girls. She hasn’t an idea. A punishment is better when is slow, and behind closed doors. I always had thought that it is a very intimate intercourse between a Mistress and her slave."

The Chinese pilot girl was inside the room, resting over a big bed. She was wearing just a red short silk gown.

"We’ve something like this on Hell of Queen Ranch," said Kwan Yin, "although it is in a small scale than this. This place is so huge, an authentic femdom City." She stretched her naked legs and bare feet, she has nice feet, small but well shaped."

Larissa had taken out her sunglasses, the blond girl has wonderful sky-blue eyes, they alone were enough to freeze any men, and turn them into a meek puppy.

She stared at the Asian young woman, her back against the stone balustrade.

"Femdom City? This place resembled a death camp for male slaves. What I say is that this manner seems so roughly brutal. I mean that the pain you produce on the slave ought to be subtle, is a personal game."

"How?" Kwan Yin enquiry laughing. "The way you talk is like the female domination is similar to making love with a vulgar male."

"Not really, in every way the female domination is the more intense relationship that a man could achieve with a woman, even more, like a million light years more, indeed, than just plain sex."

"Yeah?" Kwan Yin yawned.

"It’s true. But just when you take female domination the way it really is, and it really is like an art. I mean that it isn’t about taking a club and smashing the skull of a slave until to turn his brain into a pudding."

"Yeah …you know… that’s the favourite hobby of Jade." The girl was dozing now.

Larissa turned back and stared again at the stage mounted on the square.

The whipping hadn’t stopped yet.

The back of the slave was full covered with blood.

One of the women was still using her bullwhip, but the other had changed it for a cat of nine tails.

The man hung by his writs ropes tied at the wood bean. His eyes were closed and his head hung forward. He wasn’t crying more, and perhaps neither was breathing.

The steel claws of the cat of nine tails dug into the flesh tearing it apart and spilling profuse blood.

The young black girl handling it was indeed a skilled mistress.

The sharpen claws cut small chunks of flesh and pulled them out when it recoiled.

It was carnage now.

Larissa saw at the ground in front of the wood stage.

While the whipping was taking place, other two guard women were directing three slaves that were setting a long wood pole, footing it on the ground. The slaves were hurried by the Mistresses and her whips. Once it was fixed the males went to a near stack of firewood sticks. They began to carry the sticks to the pole.

"Is that what I though it is?" asked Larissa aloud for herself.

She changed her weight from one stocking sheathed foot to another.

On the bed, over black silk sheets, Kwan Yin was sleeping deeply.

Larissa watched down again to the square.

Over the platform Lady Kalena was inspecting the bloody work her girls had made on the slave. The torn flesh was blooding seriously. The man had passed out and was breathing badly.

"Move to the other side!" commanded Kalena to the pair of girls. "Now you’re going to whip him in the front."

The women went round and stood ahead of the slave. Then they began to beat him, taking turn, one lash him first them the other, in the same way they had flogged him from behind. One girl used the bullwhip and the other one the harsh cat of nine tails, like before.

The broke body of the man swung whit each hit, nevertheless he stayed unconscious, swinging like a dead bulge.

"Don’t stop!" barked Lady Kalena, "not until you had spilled out his whole blood."

Meanwhile, at the foot of the pole the slaves had gathered a big stack of firewood sticks. One guardian woman went close. She carried a gasoline can on her hands. The girl poured the gas over the wood.

Other two black girls, on their leather G-Strings and boots, hauled the pale and skinny slave that Kalena had condemned. The slave crawled over his fours like a dog. He was shivering in fear. One girl towed him, pulling the chain attached to his neck collar. The other girl walked behind, and kicked the man on his buttocks to hasten him.

They dragged him to the pole. They forced him to stand up straight, resting his back against the pole. The women smacked him hard, he couldn’t swing away. A girl took his hands and put them behind the pole, her partner tied them, with thick ropes.

Then the women moved away.

The slave was crying and begging.

Lady Kalena went out of the stage. She stood next to the heap of wood at the foot of the post. She smelt the gasoline.

"You are a lucky filthy worm," she talked mockingly; "your sacrifice will be very amusing for your Mistresses, and also very instructive for this assembly of worms."

One Guardian woman went next to Lady Kalena, she had a lighted torch on her hands. The girl offered the torch to Kalena.

"I’ll warm up you a little." Kalena laughed and took the blazing torch on her hands.

The Lady held it high looking like a blond Goddess. She stared over the stage at the throne. The Empress was sat, legs crossed, an arm stretched and a thump up.

Zahara grinned and put her thump down.

Lady Kalena nodded.

She threw the flaming torch to the gathered stock of wood.

High flames rose quickly over the heap of wood.

It was a blazing hell.