A Public Flogging

[Rupert_137]

A Public Flogging

A story about the public punishment of two women in earlier times inspired by an older but still impressive drawing by Zerosen. We experience the events from the two women’s point of view, but also from the impressions of a young man as a spectator who gets enthusiastic about one of the victims... A tale of suffering and pain, but also of love and eroticism.

1) Anna

Excited, I walk into the city and through the streets. Two beautiful women are to be publicly whipped for their crimes today. It begins with a humiliating performance as the sinners are dragged through the city streets in chains, barefoot and clad in rags.
I hear excited people; I push my way through the crowd with strong arms; I am tall enough to look over most heads. Suddenly I see the two sinners in front of me, I hear their ankle chains rattling over the cobblestones. My eyes first fall on a young woman with tousled long hair and a hunched back, but with a certain grace and barely concealed beauty. The other is a little older, not quite as pretty, but certainly attractive; she is marked by fear and sadness.
I hear angry abuse from the crowd and I think to myself, "Isn't it enough for people that these women are flogged for their crimes?"
The two women are dragged away by guards on ropes which are tugging at their bound hands. Their path leads to the great market square and I follow them, accompanied by the clinking of their ankle chains on the cobblestone street. There, in the marketplace, a platform with two whipping posts has been erected for their punishment.
Guards drag the two sinners upstairs, when they reach the top their hands are untied and the women are forced to undress in a shameful manner and in full view of all. Arms and hands are still trying to cover their boobs and nakedness, but helpers drag the sinners to the prepared posts, where they are tied securely - with their backs to the post! Their legs are spread between boards with holes. The wood closes, fear and deep shame fill the faces of the two victims, but the audience is filled with enthusiasm and anticipation.
I am excited too and delighted to be able to see the two women fully naked and front on, far more than I could have expected. I stare at their breasts, the younger one has amazing perky tits with big buds, the other has big heavy boobs that bend a little under gravity.
The long walk in the morning was worth it for me, I enjoy this sight. I can even see both girls' pussy clearly, the board between their feet forcing them to keep their legs open. A great idea whipping these gorgeous women from the front, I think to myself.

******

The two sinners bow their heads, trying to avoid the greedy looks of the crowd. Their bodies tremble with fear and cold, they feel vulnerable to the looks and the whip with their most sensitive and feminine parts. That's just fair, I think with a little gloating.
Anna, the young woman at the right post, is the first. The judge takes the floor, accusing her of being a thief and whore. "As punishment and penance for your crimes you will receive 40 lashes from the front. Accept the judgment with humility!”
There are insults for the beautiful thief and whore, but applause for the verdict. I see the fear in her beautiful, proud eyes, maybe she even panics. 40 lashes, that's fierce, that will tear her tender skin, she will have to drink terrible pain. At the moment I'm not quite sure whether I should show pity or be happy about the forthcoming spectacle.
Anna is a really beautiful woman, I admire her delicate face and gorgeous body. As if spellbound, I look at her stunning, pointy tits, from which large nipples protrude excitedly in the cold. I wonder if her breasts will also be punished and I find myself shamefully wishing for the same. Yes, I actually wish that these exciting tits would be severely punished...
My and most other eyes are on this girl who is supposed to make the cruel beginning. The executioner stands in front of her, he is a bear of a man, I can feel her trembling.
The strong man raises his arm with the whip threateningly, then he strikes playfully and yet brutally. The thin whip howls through the air, hisses, slaps and cruelly bites the tender skin of the girl. Anna clenches her teeth, she only moans and gasps, but her whole body tenses up. The pain is intense and truly malignant. Again and again the executioner strikes, blow after blow drawing red welts on Anna's tender skin. She struggles and gasps, but tears soon flow. Yet she shows bravery and strength in her pain and distress.
The strong man draws the whip across her shoulders, her rib cage, across her belly, down to her hips, then to her thighs. the girl really spells me, the way she twitches and squirms under the whip, the way her skin turns red with welts, the way she throws out her amazing tits after each lash as her back arches in pain. I am impressed by this young woman, by her beauty as well as by her courage with which she endures this severe punishment.
"Thirteen," calls a helper. Oh dear, she still has so much left to endure, I think sympathetically, but also with some joy.
But the executioner and the audience want more. Someone shouts, "Hit that whore harder, we want to hear her screams!" Others loudly support the caller.
Suddenly the executioner pulls the whip higher again, the strap whizzes violently over her excited but still pale tits. From the top left on her shoulder across both breasts to the bottom right on her rib cage, the whip tongue traces a fiery trail. Her hard-hit boobs tremble and shake; they jump back almost happily, as if her tits had been longingly waiting for this blow.
But the pain is roaring, which elicits a first, high-pitched scream from the girl in distress. It makes you want more, much more…

The executioner finds her sensitive, tender flesh all too quickly, which upsets us all. In fact, I think even most of the women in the audience are staring enviously at Anna's breasts and secretly enjoying the young woman's suffering under the whip. Only a few girls, frightened and protective, touch their own breasts.
The man keeps the whip raging on her breasts, first on the left, then on the right, the agitated buds that crown her gorgeous tits, each reaping a vicious blow. The strap swishes at once over the bottoms of both breasts, then over the upper curves. Her boobs tremble, the searing pain elicits more screams from the sinner, which lighten the minds of the audience.
Now her perky tits are challenging the whip themselves, I stare at her boobs, I'm shaking with excitement, I'm totally hooked. I also see how bravely her boobs endure this punishment, they tremble, jump and wobble gracefully, but then stand up again calmly and well-behaved to patiently await the next lash. Her feminine curves are covering with fiery red lines. I'm sure her tits are on fire and hurt like hell. And that's exactly what Anna really feels.
"Twenty", she got through it half way.
Anna suffers terribly, but she soon adjusts mentally to the brutal attacks and the intense pain; she refuses to scream. Only gasps and moans can be heard from her mouth. This unnecessarily angers the executioner, but the young woman continues to defy his blows.
"What a great woman!" I admire her strength, I don't want her punishment to stop, but my heart begins to burn for Anna.
The whip is thin and sure to leave extremely painful marks, but it barely tears the victim's delicate skin. I just see some blood running where welts cross, but that won't spoil her beauty. I feel relieved at this thought. Yes, I came to see these women suffer, but suddenly I don't want their beauty to be spoiled. The judge and executioner showed some mercy in the selection of the whip, but not in the extent and execution of the punishment.

Forty lashes, that doesn't seem to end. Anna stopped counting a long time ago. Again and again and without warning her breasts are attacked. As cheeky as her tits stick out unintentionally, they almost challenge the whip. But how could she change that, almost motionless tied to the post?
I see her tits teasing us all, I know she can't help it ... and that pleases me. And yet I admire Anna's courage and beauty; I'm fascinated by her flogged and cheekily protruded breasts.
She finally hangs powerlessly at the post and waits for the next blow. Each crack of the whip, followed by uncontrollable pain, her gasping and waiting for the next blow, sets the pace of her life for an agonizing eternity.
Now the young woman would like to cry out her pain, but she lacks the strength to do so; each blow floods her with new pain, tearing the air out of her lungs.
Only if another lash hits and devastates her breasts does the pain explode so violently that she cries out briefly. This tempts the executioner and everyone but Anna wishes him to whip her perky tits. “Go on hangman, whip the whore's boobs vigorously!” Someone shouts.
I can't escape this cruel spectacle either, I also have to admit that every lash that hits her gorgeous boobs is wonderfully rewarded by Anna and her tits.

"Thirty-three," seven more to go.
The audience insults Anna as a filthy whore and nasty thief, but in the end many viewers are just as impressed as I am by the strength of this excitingly beautiful woman. "She will soon find many suitors," I think to myself, "Maybe I'll even be one of them... Maybe? Certainly!"

Suddenly her pussy is attacked by the whipping tongue, her whole body jerks and her legs flap, but she can't close her thighs. For the women this is certainly mean, but for me it is a great idea to force the legs of these sinners open with a spreader. Anna's mouth opens and her lovely face is flooded with pain.
She stares at the executioner with eyes as if she wants to kill him. He just grins as if to say, "How are you going to stop me?" Then he hits again. This time he punishes her hips and delicate pubic mound. Again Anna jerks magnificently, arching her back, thrusting her butt forward and throwing out her badly whipped tits even more exciting.
The attacks between her legs woke her up, I see Anna watching the hangman anxiously, but attentively again. Suddenly I realize that the insides of her thighs are glistening in the sunlight. Did she piss herself in pain? I really feel sorry for the girl, yet I wish this punishment would never end. I want to see her fighting the pain and I wish her a lot of strength for that. Forever I want to see Anna there naked at the post, writhing under the whip that hurts her but doesn't seriously harm her body.

"Show us your pride, thief... stick out your naughty whore tits for the last three lashes!" Anna looks at the executioner in shock, her face is covered with tears, is marked by pain and suffering. No, please not my boobs again, she thinks desperately and feels very clearly how violently the pain is throbbing in her breasts.
Then someone from the crowd yells, "Stick out your naughty tits, bitch, stick them out towards the whip ... do it!" The executioner looks at Anna and waits. She shakes her head defensively. Then the hangman looks at the judge and he nods in a friendly manner. Someone else shouts, "Your naughty tits have to be punished, whore, stick them out for the whip!"
"You've heard what the viewers demand, thief... And the judge agreed."
Anna seems thoughtful, but not scared. She takes a deep breath and suddenly nods in agreement. “Wow, this girl is fantastic!”

Three more lashes on her boobs, she can survive that, I think to myself, and the girl may have thought so too. Angrily, Anna submits to her fate, boldly and cheekily she stretches her devastated tits towards the whip - but what else does she have to lose?
"Come on girl, stick your tits out further!" someone calls out again, and others suddenly join in, "Stick out your naughty tits, do it!" Gazing at the excited crowd, she defiantly arches her back and pushes her tits even further towards the whip. People are mesmerized and widen their eyes, I'm totally thrilled.
Suddenly the whip howls through the air, the leather beats her beautiful, delicate and soft boobs pitilessly and cruelly. The strap hits her tits at the bottom. Her breasts jump up wildly and tremble for a while. Anna sinks into agony, but the end is now in sight.
Again they shout: "Stick out your naughty tits, do it!" The executioner blows the whip over both breasts, hissing. Anna screams, her right nipple is hit hard and starts to bleed. I see red drops swell on her bud before falling down to her chest. The girl too stares in horror at her injured breasts.

Pain and beauty, blood dripping from her boobs, it all combines with Anna to create a beautiful picture. I'm struggling to organize my thoughts because people are now chanting, "Stick out your naughty tits, girl, stick them out towards the whip ... do it!" Boldly or defiantly, Anna arches her back and really cheekily sticks out her tits.
"You're amazing, Anna!" I exclaim and can't stop myself. People yell, “Stick out your naughty tits further… even further… further!” She tries, the executioner gives her time and waits. Then he pulls his arm back far and hurls the whip forward with great force.
A final, excited howling and hissing in the air, a relieving smack on her outstretched, hot breasts, which are hit on the top and constricted deeply before quivering violently, jumping back and throwing off the leather as if released. The executioner hit particularly hard, marking her breasts with another fiery trail.
The pain explodes and rages, Anna feels as if her boobs are about to burst. She screams, but she got over it. She is panting and crying, her skin is horribly on fire; Anna is exhausted and yet relieved.
“What a great woman!” I think and want to comfort her now. I want to put my arms around Anna, but I know there are too many guards standing by to stop me. But later, maybe, I'll find another opportunity to protect Anna, this wonderful girl, from the intrusive mob.
"She's a thief and a whore," I think briefly. "What's the point, she's a beautiful and brave woman! Surely she did it in distress..."


Note, as an appendix at the very end (chapters 5 and 6), I described Anna's flogging entirely from her point of view.
A second section on the young widow's punishment will follow...

[Rupert_137]

2) Barbara

Barbara, the young widow, suffers terribly while the younger whore and thief is punished at the post next to her. Just experiencing the suffering of the younger sinner up close and knowing that the same treatment will happen to her is unbearable for Barbara... Again and again she sees the executioner raise his arm, she hears the whip howl through the air, to then smack on tender meat. She sees her neighbor flinch and squirm at the post, her body covering with vicious red welts. She hears Anna moaning and panting beside her. Barbara winces herself when the younger one cries out because the executioner is whipping her sensitive breasts again, just to force her finally to scream. She hears vicious shouts from the crowd, telling the hangman to beat even harder and meaner.
It's just too brutal how the executioner whips the proud and brave girl, how he keeps attacking her supposedly naughty and yet so helpless tits. It's awful to witness the girl's pain and suffering so directly. Anyhow, she hardly sees any blood on Anna's whipped body, which gives her some hope.
40 lashes, that drags on for an agonizing eternity even when watching, and yet the young widow wishes Anna's punishment would never end. She doesn't know her own judgment yet, but she can't expect mercy and leniency either. Barbara tries to distract herself. Once again she reflects on the misfortune that has brought her to this post of pain and shame. Her husband died young, she is the mother of two children who she has to take care of. Out of grief and need she gave herself up as a widow to a friendly, foreign man who supported her a little. But she was observed and reported by an obnoxious neighbor.
She shudders when she thinks of this sleazy guy she brusquely rejected... Repeatedly he stared at her obtrusively and finally grabbed unabashedly through her shirt for her heavy breasts. "Show me what you have to offer there!" he shouted impudently. "Be glad that a man like me is interested in a poor widow like you." She had spat at him and broke away.

Anna's screams startle her. It fills Barbara with fear and terror to watch how the girl's tender breasts tremble under the lash of the whip, how her excited buds turn from pink to cherry red. For the last three lashes, the executioner attacks her boobs brutally and everyone clamors for Anna to stick out her tits for the whip. It's so cruel, so mean... The girl's right nipple is hit hard and starts bleeding, the red blood dripping down onto her ribs. But Anna is strong and brave. A last vicious blow shakes her tits badly but she got over it.
The executioner and the audience are highly satisfied. The man bows and there is applause. Only for the hangman, or for the brave girl too?
Barbara sighs, knowing it's her turn next. The young widow wants to piss herself for fear. She wants to run away or sink into the ground, but she can't escape the whip and her punishment, just as she can't escape the looks of the audience, whose eyes suddenly turn to her... Now Anna can rest, she has endured her punishment - Barbara suddenly wishes swapping places with her.

Barbara stands helplessly tied to the pole, which brings her fear, pain and shame. The verdict against the widow and mother is read aloud by the judge, it is 30 lashes. She gets the whip from the front too, of course, for she stands with her back tied to the post. Barbara knows what to expect. Ten fewer lashes than Anna, and yet her punishment will be horrific. She knows that in courage, beauty and strength she cannot keep up with her younger competitor.
The executioner even intimidates her: "Now it's your turn, whore... I promise you and the audience, I'll make your heavy boobs dance under my whip" And the man will surely keep his promise...
Thirty lashes from the front, how is she supposed to get through that? And he will viciously attack her sensitive big breasts to please the audience...
The executioner positions himself next to Barbara and threatens her raising his whip... "Oh, no... 30 lashes, God have mercy on me," she begs, looking up to the sky. Then she thinks of her two children "I have to get through this... the pretty girl got even more" that gives her some strength again.
Suddenly the whip cracks and the strap tears across her belly. The pain is sharp and extremely violent, tearing the air out of Barbara's lungs. She howls more than she screams. Her muscles tense reflexively; she tries to jump up, but her arms are well secured to the post. So she rubs her back on the rough wood, squirms and lets her big breasts rock gracefully.
The executioner doesn't give her much time and hits her belly again, a little higher than before, across her navel. Her howls get louder, her gasps more hectic, her boobs swing wilder. While the young widow is still panting, the third stroke follows, deep down over her belly, just above her pubic mound. This forces Barbara to twitch her open thighs and move her hips very erotically while rubbing her butt against the rough wood of the post.
Only three blows and Barbara already sinks in pain, but the audience shows their joy. Three lashes follow across her thighs, dangerously close to her pussy. "Oh god, I can't get through this," she thinks desperately.
Unexpectedly for her at this moment, but inevitable, the attack on her swinging, large breasts follows. The strap furiously catches her tits on the underside, making her boobs bounce. Barbara screams uncontrollably and stares in horror at her breasts, which are suddenly on fire with pain.
"Seven!"
At "eight" and "nine," the executioner hurls the whip over the tops of her big tits, making them tremble and bounce further, covering them with more burning red welts. The young widow shrieks and wails.
Shouts from the crowd demand more, encouraging the executioner to continue attacking her heavy breasts. "Whip her bulging udders," they call. "Let her whore tits dance now!". Barbara's eyes reflect her horror and her searing pain. "Why are people so vicious and mean?" she thinks desperately.
She gasps and begs, "Oh, please... stop whipping my boobs!"
People laugh, she pleads in vain, she only dares the executioner. Another two lashes devastate her full breasts. At "eleven" he hits her left breast badly, at "twelve" the right one. The force of the leather actually makes her heavy tits dance and floods them with terrible pain.
"Ouch... Aaaaahhhhh… Aaauuuuuiiiiiiii!"

Her screams excite, but for her wailing and pleading, Barbara receives abuse from the audience. The spectators call on the executioner to beat her mercilessly. Tears are running down her cheeks. The young widow already feels eaten away by the pain, she seems scared and disturbed.
The judge recognizes that Barbara does not have Anna's strength. He motions to the executioner, which is supposed to mean: "Do your job, don't let yourself be influenced, hit her whole front..." Anyway, the hangman then turns the whip back to her belly, hips and thighs...

"Seventeen, thirteen to come," calls a helper. She has survived little more than half, but large areas of her delicate skin are already on fire.
The next two blows hiss over her shoulders, her violent reaction in the shoulder girdle makes her red striped tits vibrate wildly again.
After that, the executioner blows the whip across her hips. Barbara never knows where he will attack next. The burning pain and the fear of the next blow determine her entire feeling and thinking.
Suddenly the biting whip tongue viciously hisses between her open legs, the leather tears her labia apart. The young widow feels like her pussy is about to rip open and explode. Her shrill scream chokes to a yelp, she chokes on breath.
The audience is enthusiastic. Barbara is still panting, but the hangman delivers an encore, with the next whiplash he devastates her pubic mound and tears out a clump of hair. The young widow squeals, squirms her hips provocatively and gracefully swings her breasts. Her tits rise and fall impressively as she gasps violently. And the audience is happy again.
"Twenty-seven... Three more!"

Barbara has an inkling of what will follow. But first the whip bites over her belly again. The searing pain envelops her like a fog, the audience blurs before her eyes, their shouts become incomprehensible noises, but the strong man in front of her with the whip remains a looming threat.
And he strikes again. The leather strap bites and cuts cruelly into the soft curves of her boobs. The extremely intense pain flashes through Barbara like a lightning strike. Raging fire fills her breasts. Barbara screams out her sorrow, but the people applaud.
"The last one," she thinks. "Please, not my boobs again," but her mouth remains silent, only her eyes plead. Someone calls out to her, "Stick out your udders for the whip, whore!" She doesn't react.
Ruthlessly the hangman hurls the whiplash over her large breasts again, which gently rock and really invite him to hit them.
"Thirty!" She got through it, she survived her harsh sentence.
Barbara is still struggling for air, her whole front is burning like fire, her tender skin is covered with welts, the pain is throbbing in her breasts. She feels her strength dwindling, the fight is over, exhausted she collapses at the post.
The young widow can no longer hear someone from the crowd shouting "Don't be a coward, whore, follow the example of the brave girl next to you!"

******

I follow the flogging of the beautiful widow Barbara with interest, but with far less enthusiasm than with the girl before. Of course, seeing the whip play with her heavy tits is fantastic... Hearing her unrestrained screams may appeal to many viewers, but for me it's disappointing, my thoughts are still on Anna, who was fighting much braver.
I can see her now standing calmly against the post, her exciting breasts still sticking out pertly, but I can picture her in my mind she is valiantly fighting the savage lashes and the pain… I imagine her whipped breasts trembling but boldly jumping back... I see Anna twitching and moaning but not screaming ... despite infuriating the executioner and the audience.
I catch myself having the evil thought of wishing Anna could get an encore with the whip… Because she's so beautiful and courageous, because her boobs protrude so cheekily. I see her aroused tits calling for the whip just to brave the pain. But I wish even more to comfort Anna and to take her in my arms with love.
"Thirty," I hear, the punishment is over. The young widow hangs half-dead at her post, but Anna looks absentmindedly to the sky. Suddenly I see the two women being doused with cold water; I can see them shivering from the cold and hear them them moaning.
The punished sinners are untied from their posts and helpers throw their penitents' shirts to them. Hectic, but with difficulty they get dressed.The linen scratches, the whipped skin is highly sensitive. Barbara sinks exhausted to her knees, she needs time for breath and reflection; but Anna was able to recover, she shows little of the terrible torment she suffered. Only once does she touch her hot-whipped aching tits with concern, before covering them with the shirt.
Now the moment has come for me, I push myself to the stairs at the platform, where Anna comes towards me with somewhat unsteady steps and anxious looks to all sides. She's panting, still in pain, but she won't let the guards support her.
How will the excited crowd receive her? Will people continue to unleash their cruelties on the brave young woman who has already suffered so much? I am a tall and strong young man; I will protect Anna... This is the right moment; this is my chance!


The flogging is over, but I've written another sequel. I think we should know how the story turns out...

[Rupert_137]

3) Conrad

Suddenly I see Anna in front of me stepping down the stairs from her punishment pedestal. She looks disturbed. Then she watches at me. I grab her hand and see her surprised looks.
"I'm Conrad, I'm a free farmer... I'll help you," I say firmly, trying to smile. Anna looks at me uncertainly and hesitantly. I recognize that she certainly had not only good experiences with apparently helpful men. But then she watches anxiously at the excited crowd and realizes that she has no other choice. I gently pull her towards me and put my right arm around her shoulders.
"Let’s get away from here quickly," I say and push my way through the people with Anna. A cheeky guy comes up to us. "Are you the lover of this thief and whore?"
I'm almost boiling with anger. "Do you mean this wonderful woman who suffered so much? No, I just met her… But if you don't want me to break your nose, you should shut up and get away.” He looks at me shocked and hurries up to get away. The other people suddenly make room for us too.
I hurry on with Anna. Suddenly a woman runs towards us. I see the hate on her face and eyes. She hastily approaches and doesn't even notice me. When I realized she was about to spit on Anna’s face, my fist hits her at the shoulder, she staggers and her spit misses. She falls to the ground and looks at me in amazement. "Be careful, wench, that you don't take the place of this woman at the post… but they won't flog you, they will burn you at the stake!" Frightened, she leaves in a hurry.

"We need some different clothes for you," I say to Anna. "There's a shop where we'll find the essentials for you.” She just nods. Unmolested, we reach a shop I know on the edge of the large market square. As we are about to enter, the owner, an older man, says to me: "This place is closed, we have lunch break." "Then you will open again," I say firmly.
He looks at me in surprise but kindly. "Is she the girl who was just flogged?" "Yes," I say, "she urgently needs different clothes." "I understand; it was a harsh punishment … poor girl." The old man pitifully looks at Anna. Now he politely invites us to come in and closes the door behind us.
"I'm trying to help you," he says encouragingly.
Anna has an urgent need to go to the toilet – the usual little smelly backyard cottage with a squat toilet over a small pit. After that she can rest.
I quickly find a few things for her with the help of the owner. A simple, light dress, a soft petticoat, a headscarf, a pair of sandals. "Put that on, I hope it suits you... I'll get us something to eat." I leave Anna alone and get us some bread and a pot of hot soup. When I come back, Anna is dressed, combed her hair and washed her face. She's still in noticeable pain, but she looks beautiful. We sit down in a small back garden, the old man smiles friendly again and leaves us alone.

While Anna almost greedily slurps her soup, she keeps touching her breasts and moans. Noticing my looks, she says, "Oh, my poor boobs are so sore, it's unbearable. My whole skin burns like fire, but deep inside my boobs the pain is pounding so furiously, my tits won't settle down…” I caress her cheek, trying to comfort her. "You can't imagine how painful it is to have a woman's breasts whipped...I didn't know it myself either." Then she bitterly says, "But everyone but me enjoyed it." How right she is I think.
"You yourself stuck out your tits for the whip," I say, amazed. "What should I do then? I've got my pride and the executioner would have lashed my poor boobs anyway, even the judge nodded – they would have forced me to comply. They all wanted him to whip my ‘naughty tits’, they all shouted, 'stick out your naughty tits, stick them out for the whip' ... Those shouts and the pain beyond words will never get out of my mind.”
Oh yes, we wanted that! We wanted her tits to be whipped… "I'm so sorry," I say guiltily. "You are very kind to me," she replies encouragingly.
"It was mean... but it was supposed to hurt a lot," I say thoughtfully. "Through your pain you atoned and you impressed me greatly with your bravery. You really deserve all of our recognition!”
"Unfortunately, not all people think like you, Conrad. You saw for yourself how much some hate me... I must deal with my pain, as well as my shame... I have wronged and sinned, I was rightly punished… But why do I have 'naughty tits' that have to be punished viciously? Whipping my sensitive breasts selectively was just like torture; my poor boobs do not deserve to suffer so terrible!"
Suddenly she asks me: "Tell me honestly, do you like to see whipped tits?" I feel caught and answer evasively: "I think ... you have beautiful breasts – with and without whip stripes... I was happy to see you from the front, but I didn't want you to suffer so terribly... That's why I came to help you."
"Thanks for your help," she says briefly. I ask Anna if she felt her punishment was unjust and too harsh, if she hates the hangman and all the people who cheered him on.
“My flogging was a horrible punishment," she says, and hesitates. “The executioner did his job… The spectators were really mean, they wanted to see me suffering; but certainly many of them had no idea how badly my breasts hurt and how terribly I suffered from the lash. It was my pride fighting the pain and trying not to scream... If there's anyone I hate, it's the judge who showed no mercy, who sentenced me to receive 40 lashes on my vulnerable front.”
"You are a wonderful, strong woman," I say. She looks at me and smiles, a little embarrassed. "You surely think I'm a thief and a whore," she sighs. "It's true, but you have to know, I did it out of hardship." I nodded, because that's exactly what I expected.

She tells me her story. “My parents died young one after the other. Then my uncle came and said to me: 'I have to take care of your little siblings, I can't take care of you as well. You are old enough, you are a pretty and skillful girl, hire yourself out as a maid!' I tried that, but for hard work from morning to evening there was little more than something to eat and a place to sleep... And at night the employer came and wanted my body too. I was very scared but luckily I didn't get pregnant... I knew a few tricks.
He often treated me like his slave. If I didn't obey or wasn't diligent enough, I had to bend over the table and pull up my skirts, then he'd beaten my bare buttocks harshly with the cane. I had to count, but otherwise I wasn't allowed to make any peep and move or the blow would be repeated even stronger. Mostly I had to count to seven, but when the employer was angry even to twelve. But the worst thing was when he used a carpet beater instead of a cane...
I'm sure he enjoyed it when I twitched und my butt was covering with red welts... He was delighted by the sight of my bare legs, my buttocks and pussy. And later he came into my chamber in order to fuck me. ‘You still have to make some amends for your bad behavior’, he usually said."

I see tears in Anna's eyes. "I was too proud and wanted to be strong, so I ran away. I tried to get by on my own, without an employer. But as you can see, I didn't quite succeed."
"Do you have a place to stay?" She shakes her head. "You can stay with me as long as you want," I say. Then I take courage. "And if you want, you can be my wife." First she looks at me in disbelief, but then she smiles. "You're so good to me," she says. "You don't even know me." "I've seen enough to know you."
I look for a boy with a donkey outside the city gates. We put Anna on it and the animal carries her leisurely to my village and to my house, to my parents.

******

Completely naked she lies in front of me on my bed and I look at her flogged front. "How cruel to do this to such a delicate and beautiful girl," I think. "You saw me naked at the post anyway, so now you can take a closer look at my welts," she says with a smile. Just look how the whip has devastated my beautiful breasts.
I'm amazed, there are really malicious marks on her delicate skin; she must have suffered terribly. I feel great pity for Anna - and yet her whipped tits fascinate me, they are like an artwork of wonderful feminine curves with exciting buds and covered in scorching hot whip welts. But was this artwork worth all her terrible suffering?
Anna had to atone and got through it so bravely in a wonderful way, she is now free from all her blame and guilt... I try to calm down.
I bend over her and smear Anna's injured skin with the cooling ointment my mother prepared for her. She looks at me kindly with her beautiful but tired eyes and relaxes. I can feel that it's good for her.
I start with her arms and shoulders, then my hands slide over her breasts as gently as possible. She sighs very softly and closes her eyes. I know that it hurts her, the executioner has badly mauled her breasts, but I have to massage in the ointment a little and I also want to feel her warm soft curves, but they react very sensitively.
I struggle to pull my eyes and hands away from her hot-whipped tits and still-excited nipples. Softly I walk down to her belly. Everywhere I see whip marks and feel hot skin, which I cool with ointment. My hands slide further to her slightly open thighs, which I gently massage. I see her pussy; I feel her delicate scent. I'm having trouble controlling my excitement. But I can't just throw myself on her injured body...
"You're so gentle and good to me," she says. "You've earned my body and your pleasure." She smiles again, yet sighs in pain. Anna turns carefully and gets on her hands and knees. I see her unharmed, firm butt, it's a great sight. "Take me," she says softly.
"Wow, how lucky," I think... "This is the greatest day of my life!" But I don't want to fuck her like a dog. I undress in a hurry and lie down next to Anna on my back on the bed. I gently pull her over to me. Anna immediately understands what I want. She climbs on me. My cock is already erected hard and steep. She grips it gently, carefully inserting my cock into her wet pussy – of course, she felt the whip there too. She lowers her body letting me slide deeper and deeper into her sanctuary. She slowly begins to ride me; I can hardly believe my luck.
Above me I see her gorgeous body, her hair that has gained shine, her face full of grace and beauty, no longer full of tears and contorted with pain. Very carefully I reach for her whipped tits, I feel her warmth, feel Anna's heart pounding inside her boobs. She moans audibly again, but she allows it. The executioner must have hurt her breasts terribly. I enjoy the gentle beat of her hips, but soon her movements become faster. I'm relieved, Anna wants it too...
My hands release from her hot boobs, they slowly wander down over whip marks on her tender skin to her hips. I gently slow her pace, not wanting to find a quick climax; I want this happiness to last forever. I look fascinated at her injured body, which moves so wonderfully on me. I am a part of her and she has become a part of me...
I see her breasts from below. I enjoy the way her tits sway in front of my eyes, the way her buds bulge hard. Her tits have been badly marked by the whip and yet are so exciting and beautiful. Her injured nipples are deep red and tease me, it seems they would shout at me, "We have been punished severely, but we are still proud and cheeky!"

For a moment I wonder if Anna still thinks I love whipped tits. Yes, her whipped, throbbing hot tits with red welts and highly aroused nipples are truly a sensation – for my eyes and for my hands. I will cherish these impressions forever... But I know how much Anna suffered for it and I will also love her intact, tender breasts forever. The next moment I sink into love, happiness and delight...
And Anna? I think that's what she wants now and she likes it too, despite all the pain.


An epilogue will conclude the story

[Rupert_137]

4) Epilogue

I had never thought I would find my wife and the love of my life at the whipping post – but now I'm getting ahead of myself…
Yes, today I am really happy that I found Anna as a wonderful woman; she is also lucky that I saw her suffering at the post and wanted to protected her, that finally I put her out of misery. A terrible event brought us together. I think her punishment at the whipping post was our destiny...
She was in pain for days, her breasts hurt even longer, and it took weeks for the marks of the whip to heal completely. Anna suffered really badly. I took care of her as best I could. There are certainly permanent traces on her soul, but fortunately not on her delicate skin.
Sometimes I wonder if the executioner had any idea what an ephemeral, yet very erotic work of art he created with his brutal flogging on Anna's sensitive body. I also wonder if it was right and legal to flog the two women viciously from the front to give us viewers under the guise of punishment a great erotic spectacle through so much pain and suffering. I don't know, but I'm glad it happened because otherwise I would never have found Anna…

I asked Anna if she still hates the judge and how she feels about her sentence today. The punishment was very harsh and unfair in the way we women were flogged. But the judge had to punish me... It was out of necessity, but I sold my body for a warm bed, some food, clothes and shoes because I was too proud to hire myself out as a maid... and because I was abused as a pretty maid too. I stole because I didn't want to sell my body to filthy men for some handouts anymore. Men, who treated me badly and sometimes cheated me out of my wages... And yet, that didn't give me the right to steal from those men – even though I thought at the time I was only taking what was due to me.”
Then she looks at me with her beautiful eyes. “I suffered terribly, from the whip, from the people who took pleasure in my suffering, and from the executioner who cruelly whipped my delicate skin and attacked my sensitive breasts viciously to everyone's amusement… I was so scared of every lash that I almost pissed myself embarrassingly. But the evil shouts from the audience made me angry … that helped me getting through my horrible misery. That's why I'm no longer angry with people. For the executioner, it was his work and at the same time a cruel competition that he and the audience forced me into. But he encouraged me at the beginning of my flogging when I was shaking with fear and at the end he gave me words of appreciation, so I forgive him.”
Finally, she adds: “Only God could give me mercy, not the judge or the executioner. God accepted my painful penance, he has given me a happy life, that's all that matters. And so I accept my punishment and suffering as necessary and appropriate.”

******

"Nobody has respected me like you, Conrad," Anna tells me. "You too love my body – you should do so – but I feel you love me too!" Yes, I love Anna and still admire her. She had nothing but the penitent shirt she was wearing when I met her – so what?
We got married soon after. Of course there were a few people in my family and in the village who didn't understand that. But my father liked Anna and I explained to my mother: "I need a strong wife by my side, for my life, for the farm and for our children later. Anna is that strong woman." She accepted my decision; I wasn't interested in what other people thought.
But Anna suffered from a lack of recognition and respect... There were maids giggling behind her back, whispering about the new mistress being flogged naked and was often touching her aching breasts for the first few days after she arrived at the farm.
There were farmhands who did not want to accept Anna’s word and said to her: “You're not the peasant lady, you're just a wench, you're just one like us.”

My father called the servants together and said in front of them: "This is my eldest son Conrad and this is his wife Anna. The years will come when I will retire to my old age. From now on, you will take Conrad's word and Anna's word as well as mine. Anyone who doesn't like it should look for a job elsewhere.” Nobody left us.
But there were still angry voices from people who said that Anna was a disgrace to the family and the village... They said it was not appropriate that, as a free farmer and heir to the farm, I took a wife who was publicly flogged as a whore and thief.
So I went with Anna to the priest who had married us and asked him for help. He gave a fiery speech in the church about how Jesus forgave fallen sinners, lifted them up, enlightened them and took them into his ranks. At the end he called out to the community: "He who is free from sin, let him throw the first stone... Come on get up!" No one stood up. Then the evil gossip stopped...

******

You may think that I have sometimes beaten Anna, even whipped her for fun. But you're wrong; what I have seen is enough for a lifetime; as much as she has suffered, that's enough for an eternity.
But if I could relive one day of my life it would most certainly be the day Anna was flogged and I found love with her. Of course she would choose another day…
I have often told Anna how I admired her beauty, bravery and strength while she suffered so terribly at the post. So far I have not told her how I wished at the time that the executioner would continue to whip her perky tits and that her punishment would never end. At some point I will confess it to Anna and I hope she will forgive me, as long as it remains my dark secret. But she probably knows it anyway…

And what happened to Barbara? I heard she was completely exhausted after her harsh punishment. But the young widow's two brothers took her off the pedestal at the whipping post and protected her from the excited crowd. I do not know more; I took care of Anna, everything else didn’t matter to me.

The End


Fate is often unfair and cruel, not everyone is as lucky as Conrad or experiences mercy as Anna. But have leniency with so much heavenly charity, I wrote this story at Easter 2023; there are so many stories here with a bad ending, but this is really an Easter tale – it starts horribly but ends happily...

This is the end of the story, but it’s not the end of my narration yet… Let Anna tell her tale!

[Rupert_137]

Finally, I have a cover picture for this story.

A Public Flogging - Cover

And the hint that I revised and supplemented Chapter 1 (Anna) a little today -
at the end there are always some new ideas...

[Rupert_137]

After the end of the story it's not over yet... Written with two hands...
I got the idea to write about the flogging that Anna has to endure (chapter 1) from her own point of view.


5) Anna's Flogging (I) – Her point of view

My court hearing was short. The judge hardly let me finish before he handed down the verdict. "The defendant is guilty of all charges. Instead of showing sincere remorse, she tries to make excuses – bad hardship, she was betrayed, she only took what was her right – the usual lamentation! But there are witnesses and essentially the accused has to admit to all allegations. She worked as a barmaid and harvest helper, but it didn't stop there. According to her own statements, Anna has also been paid to help single men in the household, to advise them and to give them comfort. And sometimes she took a few things with her for unpaid wages... The accused is an unmarried young woman; she is not a registered prostitute paying her taxes in advance. There is no claim to reward for fornication and immorality – on the contrary, she should be ashamed of all benefits she obtained by her sinful doings!"
Then the judge looks at me with stern eyes. "Tomorrow you will be flogged as a thief and whore in the market square – along with another sinner awaiting repentance... Do you have anything else to say?" I am startled and intimidated, shaking my head in resignation. I am taken away and pulled back to my cell.

I've heard bad things, but the guards treat me properly. One says "You're a pretty girl, why won't anyone marry you?" I'm not in the mood to explain that to him. I get a piece of bread and a bowl of soup – edible. Then they throw me a penitent shirt. "Put this on, it won't take you so long to undress at the whipping post tomorrow."
I sigh and give in, the two guards watch with interest as I change clothes in front of them. "Get down with undershirt and panties too!" I have to strip naked. "Don't be shy, girl; show yourself from the front, show us your boobs and your beauty!" I think, "I would rather not", but I don't want to upset them. I turn around and press my legs tightly together; briefly I remove my arms from my breasts. I take a deep breath, embarrassed, stare at the floor; then I quickly slip into the penitential shirt. The rough fabric scratches my skin, but better than standing naked in front of the guards.
"Why so hasty? You have great boobs, girl,” says one. "Tomorrow, hundreds will be watching you undress and stand naked at the post." My heart is pounding, but they leave me alone. With the words, “Sorry, we have to take everything with us – this is all illegally acquired, the judge says”, they leave the cell with my clothes. I have nothing but the penitential shirt, which I am wearing now. Everything I owned was confiscated: some money, shoes, all my clothes, jewelry and personal items, everything from a comb to panties.
I spend a worrying night, rolling on the straw until I finally fall asleep. I wake up way too early. "It's time for your flogging!"

******

They drag me barefoot through the alleys, my ankle chains shuffling over the cobblestones. There are people staring at me everywhere. I am ashamed and scared. I am being pulled by my handcuffed hands; with the chains between my legs I can only take small steps. I have to be careful not to fall, but that takes my mind off my shame.
I continue to shuffle after Barbara, who is supposed to share the whip with me. People call us nasty bitches and dirty sluts, they insult us as filthy whores, they curse me as a wicked thief. I only catch a glimpse of their faces and recognize that they are looking forward to our punishment with fun.
We reach the marketplace and suddenly I see the pedestal with two large posts in front of me. My heart is pounding; I know I'm going to be flogged there. They push us up, push us against the two posts. My hands are released; I'm supposed to undress.
I turn to the post; with trembling hands I pull my penitential shirt over my head. But then three guards push me against the post and tie me down. Just released, they tie my hands again, but to the post behind my back. Totally naked I stand on the podium facing the crowd.
"What are you doing? that's the wrong side,” I protest. The guards grin. One says: "That’s okay. It's much more intense for you and more exciting for us if you’re flogged from the front!" "From the front? No, that can't be true!” I'm shocked.
They untie my ankle chains, but in return they lock my ankles in a wooden spreader. I stand there with my legs open. I can't even hide my pussy, my breasts are completely exposed to the gaze and the whip. I'm even more scared, my heart starts to race. I look at the excited crowd and feel embarrassed. I lower my head quickly. I look briefly at my neighbor; Barbara is no different than me. Her eyes show anxiety and shame too.
Soon I'm shaking with fear and cold. For me, a shameful and anxious wait begins. I recognize the hangman with the whip. Oh dear, what a tall and strong guy. A gong rings, then the judge takes the floor. He addresses me and then to the crowd. He names my offenses and announces the punishment: "Forty lashes from the front!"
People are excited, but I'm trembling and want to piss myself with fear. Forty lashes, that will tear my tender skin, that will ruin my front, that will kill me in agony. I want to beg for mercy, but the executioner calmly speaks to me: "Pull yourself together, girl, you will survive."

A little later he stands in front of me, I close my eyes and pray silently. Expectant calm suddenly surrounds me. The howl of the whip ends this calm. The strap hisses angrily across my belly, biting and burning my delicate skin. I feel myself twitching, tearing at my bonds. My whole body tenses as the pain floods through me and begins to rage. I clench my teeth and gasp. I look down, startled. My boobs wiggle, between them I recognize the red stripe on my belly. No blood, just an intensely painful bruise and abrasion.
I feel relieved, it hurts a lot, the whip burns but it doesn't tear my skin. It's going to be a very harsh punishment, but I really can survive this... Thirty-nine more.
His next lash already hits me. Howling, clapping, more pain burns at my belly. I'm not really prepared, struggling not to cry out loud ... more gasps and moans.

The executioner continues to whip me viciously, hitting my belly, hips, shoulders and thighs. I fight bravely with the pain that slowly threatens to eat me up. I moan, but I don't scream, although the audience isn't satisfied with that. I hear shouts from the crowd: "Lash that whore harder, we want to hear her screams!"
No, that can't be true, I think. And suddenly comes what had to come. The next lash hisses fiercely over my tender breasts, which tremble and jump up wildly. The pain overwhelms my senses, I scream and howl, the first tears flow. But the executioner grins and the cruel mob is happy.
I pant frantically, my breasts wiggle, rise and fall, covered by a burning red stripe. As I stare at my breasts in horror, the whip howls through the air again and the strap hits my breasts again, which are brutally tumbled through by the leather thong. The executioner goes into a rage and hits my tender curves a third time. I scream out my pain. "Seventeen," calls the counter, not even half.

It's so mean to whip a woman's delicate breasts. But the man has found my sensitive vulnerability and he is exploiting it as if it were about his victory and my defeat. He applies the next two lashes across the existing welts, first over my left breast, then over the right, and again diagonally across both boobs. The pain is roaring and mean, my breasts rage and fill with fire. I shriek and gasp, feeling my knees go weak. I want to beg for mercy, but I clench my teeth.
“Twenty”, I only got through half of it.
The people applaud, they demand more pain for me, more bites of the whip for my perky tits. Suddenly I feel anger, "No, you will not conquer me!"

The executioner attacks me without warning, sometimes on my belly, on my breasts, on my thighs or shoulders. I can't see any regularity. But it seems to me that he wants to break me this way. I fight against the burning pain that flows through and envelops me.
And again and again he viciously whips my breasts. It's as if the executioner wants to tell me, "Look, I haven't forgotten your boobs yet, I'll never forget them!"
Ow how that hurts! While he's harshly flogging my sensitive boobs, he not only whips my most tender and now helplessly exposed flesh, he also deeply hurts my soul as a woman.


To be continued...

[Rupert_137]

6) Anna's Flogging (II)

I am ruthlessly flogged from the front. Hissing, slapping... Again the whip bites viciously into my tits. The breasts tremble and bounce under the force of the strap; they protest so furiously that I have to scream. I feel hot fire burning on my skin and coursing through my boobs. Again and again the executioner examines my body as if he were looking for free areas of my tender skin without traces of the whip. But he won't find them on my breasts anymore... Why does he keep whipping my tits? I guess my beautiful boobs challenge him and the audience.
I can feel myself getting weaker. Even if I wanted to scream, I don't have the strength to do it now. Forty lashes, there's no end to it. Who can impose such a cruel sentence, who can enjoy it? But the audience is definitely happy.
It doesn't help, I'm tied to the post and can't free myself. I pant and groan, gasping for breath until the next lash hits me. "Thirty-three," seven more; finally, the end is in sight. There are angry shouts from the audience, but I hardly notice it anymore. Instead, my bladder is now making itself felt more and more urgently, stimulated by my fears.

Suddenly the fast tongue of the whip slaps between my legs, the hissing leather tears my labia apart and bites viciously into my intimate cleft. My whole body tenses, my thighs flapping, but they can't close with the shameful wooden spreader between my feet. The pain rages in my most sensitive femininity. I only screech briefly, then I'm out of breath, I moan in agony.
I can feel a few drops of pee getting my thighs wet. No, I don't want to piss myself; I don't want to give the executioner this satisfaction, I don't want to grant the public malicious joy. It trickles between my legs, but I pull myself together and close my bladder. I realize the executioner has found another weakness I can't protect. I feel so helpless, faint and vulnerable.
Still struggling for control and with the raging pain, I see the man with the whip in front of me, smiling mischievously as if to say "I've got you, girl!" I feel hate and anger. "No, attacking me with the whip between my legs, that's malignant and mean!"
He just grins and whips me again. This time he tears the strap from my left hip across my mons pubis to the base of my right thigh. I tense up, twitch and tremble, my tits jiggling. I have trouble controlling myself and not to piss again.
More tears flow down my cheeks and more drops of pee splash down my legs. A few drops? No, it's babbling before I can control it. Some pee runs warm down the insides of my thighs and it cools down quickly. But only the executioner seems to notice. His triumphant gaze wants to tell me, "See, I can conquer you." I nod resignedly and humbly lower my head. Yes, I am completely in his hands...
In the morning, when the guards came to my cell, I hastily drank some water, but I didn't find an opportunity to empty my bladder; now it's taking its toll. It was probably a bad intention to embarrass me... But no, I don't want to piss myself!

I groan and pant, gasping for air. It burns like hell between my legs and my whole front is on fire; from my shoulders down to my knees, I see red welts everywhere. I'm drowning in pain, but the vicious attack on my pussy startled me. The executioner did the worst to my breasts; I sincerely hope that he will finally spare my poor tits.
I look anxiously at the man with the whip in front of me – where will his next lash hit me? I wish I finally got over it. These forty lashes will not tear me apart, but they bring me endless torment.
The next two lashes hit my thighs, I twitch and my legs tremble. The pain is flooding through my body, but I clench my teeth and gasp.

"Thirty-seven" calls the counter. Three more, I've almost made it through, that gives me a sigh of relief and hope.
"Stick out your perky tits for the last three lashes," calls the executioner. No, that must not be true! Not my boobs again; they've already suffered so badly, they can't take any more. The pain is already pounding wildly in my breasts.
I shake my head in desperation. Then someone in the crowd yells, "Stick out your naughty tits, bitch, stick them out for the whip... do it!" The executioner looks at me and waits. In this moment I want to throw myself on the ground in front of him and the people and ask for forgiveness, I want to beg them to finally spare my breasts. But I am firmly tied to the post.
Again I hear their shouts, "Your naughty boobs have to be punished!" I realize there will be no mercy. Why are people so cruel? Why do they hate my tits? Why are my boobs naughty and need to be punished?
I see the judge nod approvingly to the executioner, I'm shocked. The hangman tells me, "Show us your pride, girl, be brave! You've heard what people are asking for." I'm scared, I don't want this, but I realize they're going to force me any way. My fear turns to anger.
"Okay, I'll show my pride... I'll bravely do what you want, but then leave me in peace," I say to myself. "No begging, no lamentation, I’ll brave the whip… My boobs will defy all his vicious attacks!"
I look at the hangman and suddenly nod in determination. I comply and gently push my breasts against the whip. My tits are throbbing and already on fire. “Three more lashes, somehow I'll get through this!” I am determined to fight.

I'm trembling, waiting for the next vicious lash. But they yell again, "Stick out your naughty tits further, much further!" This infuriates me even more, and defiantly I do as they demand.
I see the executioner raise his arm, hear the whip howl through the air. I hold my breath, then the blow hits me. Wildly slapping, the strap bites deep into my injured breasts. They are compressed by the force of the leather and jump back as if freed.
Moments later, the pain in my tits almost explodes and begins to rage for what feels like an eternity. And again some pee drips between my legs, but I hardly notice it.
I want to be brave, but I have to scream. Then I can't breathe, my strength dwindles. "Oh, God, how cruelly my tender breasts can hurt…"

I gasp and try to collect myself. "Two more, I can do it," I tell myself. I hear their calls again. I don't resist anymore, I do as they ask, I stick out my 'naughty tits', throbbing wildly, flooding my senses with pain. But I bravely push my boobs towards the next lash.
The whip howls, I close my eyes anxiously, but moments later I open them in shock again. It feels like my tits are being ripped off. And again the raging pain greets me. As I stare at my breasts in terror, I see my right nipple bleeding; I can feel my bud pounding painfully to the beat of my heart. My blood wells up, drop after drop collects on my injured nipple, only to fall under its own weight onto my belly and ribs. I see my whipped breasts hectically rising and falling with my breathing.

Someone yells, "Hangman, make her naughty boobs bleed some more!" It's still not enough for them. Again, others yell along; as if externally controlled, I submit and stick out my tits towards the whip and the audience... "More... more!" I try, I curve some more, I push out my chest even further… Of course, my perky boobs need to be harshly punished – my naughty tits must bleed for me and my sins!
It's crazy, but in anger I stick out my devastated tits; I wait and think, "Come on, whip my boobs even harder ... the last lash, go ahead now!"
I suddenly see it as if from the outside, how I arch my back, how my breasts boldly push forward and a little further, so proudly. I see the executioner pull his arm back far and hurl the thong at me forcefully. I hear the whip howl again. This time I feel no fear, I stick out my tits bravely, even a little further.
The leather hits me with a nasty hiss; my breasts are hit very hard, constricted deeply by the strap and tremble. The executioner struck with all his might. My breasts feel like they're about to burst, but they fight back bravely even as the pain explodes inside my tits almost instantly.
I sink back to the post, flooded with more agony; my tormented breasts don't want to put up with this treatment, they protest very violently. My knees are getting weak, I'm sagging, but I'm hanging securely at the post and I got through it. One last scream, then I gasp and let my tears flow. I weep with pain and with relief; I survived my horrific flogging.

It takes a while before I can concentrate again. My breasts are burning; the pain is throbbing with every heartbeat. I stare in horror at the many welts. "I'm sorry, dear titties, that you had to suffer so badly for me and my sins. You were so brave..." Then I look at the sky. "Oh, dear God, please let my tender boobs completely heal," I beg.
The hangman looks at me again. "Cheer up, you're a brave and strong girl," he says appreciatively. I just nod, exhausted, but I can't be happy about his unexpected praise, it has cost me too much pain and suffering. I would never have wanted the cruel competition they forced me into. It was the worst fight of my life... I just want to be left alone, finally I want to be untied and get clothes again; I want to get away from all the people, wish my breasts would stop throbbing...

Now it's Barbara's turn, the young widow next to me. She gets thirty lashes for adultery and fornication. How can she commit adultery as a widow? Anyway, I got 10 extra lashes as a whore and thief, but what bad crimes did I commit? I wish her the strength to get through it.
Now I am glad to have some rest and to regain my strength. I'm still naked and can hardly move. The air is fresh, but my body is on fire and my tits scream out their pain, they won't give me rest. My shoulders also hurt from the immobile arms tied far back at the post.
I hear the howl of the whip again, I twitch briefly, but the hissing strap is not aimed at me, the woman next to me is now struggling with fear and pain. The viewers also turn to her and leave me in peace.
I close my eyes, I am stiffly tied to the post, I feel thirst and pain; my bladder squeezes ... my pee has to wait. I'm trying to collect myself, I'm slowly finding some peace. I try to hide the malicious happenings around me, but Barbara's screams wake me up again and again...
Soon I begin to worry, “Where am I going if I am untied here? How do I get through the crowd unscathed, barefoot in my penitential shirt, where everyone recognizes me immediately?”


And with that, the final section of chapter 2 follows seamlessly with Conrad’s point of view…

Conclusion

[Rupert_137]

Here I have a short series of pictures on the topic of public punishment including flogging:

A Traitor’s public Punishment

Content:
Lady Isabella was the lover of a Spanish prince, but she was blackmailed because her father was imprisoned in England. And so she leaked information to the English, nothing really important, but she shamefully betrayed the Prince's trust... She did it out of necessity, but what did it matter? The prince doesn't want to kill Lady Isabella, even though she deserves it, he wants to see his treacherous lover suffer and later decide her fate...

Maybe this will become a real story later, but first the short series of pictures...

A short story in 8 pictures, today the first three...

A Traitors public Punishment (1)

A Traitors public Punishment (2)

A Traitors public Punishment (3)

[Rupert_137]

Here we go on with "A Traitor's public Punishment"...

The public flogging

A Traitor's Punishment (4)

A Traitor's Punishment (3)

A Traitor's Punishment (2)

[Rupert_137]

And here is the conclusion of "A Traitor's public Punishment"

It gets worse for Lady Isabella...

A Traitor's public Punishment (7)

A Traitor's public Punishment (8)

While agonizingly riding the horse, Lady Isabella is shocked to see that the post next to her has been converted from a T-cross to an Y-post. What other dire punishments await her? Will she be whipped from the front again? May be, but I rather think that red-hot pliers are waiting for her tender meat at the Y-post...

Unfortunately, the sequence of images available to me ends here...
In the last picture I summarize a few ideas on how it could proceed:

A Traitor's public Punishment (9)

I've also reviewed the main story "A public Flogging" again and made a few minor tweaks - I hope this remains the final version now