Celeste's Pacific Downfall

                  Celeste's Pacific Downfall - Chapter 14

                                

      To celebrate his victory over death the masked monster once more raped his victim. This time he used his huge cock to block her windpipe and slowly strangle her. She was no match for his strength, barely able to open her eyes and softly plead for mercy or a quick death, which brought a fiendish laugh from behind the mask.

 

      "There shall be no mercy for you, now or ever! You are the thrall of death and I am but  his humble servant. You will suffer and wish for his cold embrace, but it is not so easy to become one with death, as I think you are discovering."

 

      She could make no sense from what he said. Her mind was in total turmoil, she had no concept of time any longer. Fear and panic had taken permanent hold of her. What little touch to humanity that remained was slowly being drained from her psyche. To Celeste, there was no life, no death, just this interminable limbo and the awful pain that came and went.

 

      He had dragged her to the seesaw and strapped her tightly to the rough board; arms pulled up over her head and tied with strips of leather to a peg. He stripped and settled his cadaverous body onto hers in such a manner that allowed him to feed his cock into his victim's mouth. He placed his long fingers at the back of her jaws and pressed until they locked in place. The executioner knew his anatomy, he had spent years studying the human body and as usual it was paying dividends. With her mouth slack it would be no challenge to enter her and begin to block her windpipe with its massive girth.

 

      However first he had to harden his weapon, and he accomplished this by tit fucking Celeste, his big hands squeezing her tits together to increase the friction they could generate as his cock sawed away between them. In the process he managed to open some of her old wounds and soon his cock was flecked with her blood, bringing a hideous cackle from his throat. Gradually that ugly length of gristle grew longer and fatter, the ideal implement for slowly strangling the woman. He had no intention of killing her in this manner; it merely was his way to celebrate what had passed and what was to come.

 

      Satisfied that his wart-covered cock was ready for the task, he locked her jaws wide using  the tips of his fingers to effectively paralyze the muscles controlling them. He shifted his position so that the angle at which his cock entered her mouth would lead directly to her gullet. His first thrust plugged her windpipe completely and she barely made an attempt to struggle, already giving up to whatever he intended. He pressed forward and his cock slipped further down her throat, stretching the soft tissue to its limit. The executioner paused to enjoy the sensations of her throat convulsing from the pressure he was applying to it. Celeste's face had already turned red, and her eyes were starting to bulge from their sockets as she was being suffocated. He pulled back, discovering that he was nearly trapped by her reaction to his cock's presence in her throat. That was something he wished to avoid; to strangle her now would defeat his aim to add more pain and suffering to her miserable existence, but not to end her life.

 

      He resumed torturing her; moving that engine of destruction down the shaft of her throat, completely cutting off her air supply. Celeste's face slowly returned to red, then grew paler as her lungs labored to find the precious oxygen the body needed to sustain itself. Her lips turned blue and then a darker shade, almost purple. Her eyes were wide, but saw nothing. She had not drawn breath for over a minute, he decided to go for another thirty seconds. To amuse himself he began throttling his comatose prey, enjoying the way her eyes seemed to grow larger as her face now took on an ashy cast to it that announced the approach of death. He was not about to sacrifice her this easily, and so he yanked his cock from her ravaged throat wth a loud pop, then listened to her wheeze and cough as the air began to pass into her lungs which eagerly accepted and processed it.

 

      The executioner went back to tit fucking his victim, working his cock between her battered and bruised sacks of fat at the same time that his powerful hands mauled and twisted those fun bags, as some of her boyfriends had described them in better times. He felt himself approaching another ejaculation, and he wanted to make sure that every drop was emptied into her throat as she gasped for that precious life-giving commodity that we all take so much for granted. He popped the head of his misshapen cock into her bruised throat and jammed it deep this time, enjoying how much pain he was causing. He moved it from side to side to make sure there was enough room to maneuver. Her gullet had been so stretched out of shape that her voice was nearly gone, as she would discover shortly.

 

      He began to throat-fuck her, driving his cock deeper and deeper with each short thrust. It did not take long before his nutsack tightened and then his churning testicles errupted, sending a salvo of hot cum into his victim's throat and ultimately down into her belly and lungs as well. By the time he finished, Celeste was unconscious and once more on the verge of death. This time he brutally revived her by slamming his fist into her sternum until she coughed up some bile and her eyes flew open in  horror, as she realized she still lived and would be able suffer even more torture from this madman.

 

      The executioner dressed once more, making sure that his stethoscope was displayed prominently. He  proceeded to restrain any movement in Celeste's head, using a special strap that covered her brow. She was too far gone to even wonder what the purpose of this new restraint could possibly be. Then he checked the level of water in the small rectangular tank by tipping the seesaw, to which Celeste was tightly bound, into it. He clucked his tongue and added just enough water so that Celeste's nose barely broke the surface. He checked everything for stability and then set it into motion driven by a small motor attached to a fitting on the underside of the board.

 

      The first ten or fifteen cycles were accomplished without any difficulty for the blonde newscaster. Her breathing became fairly normal, considering the circumstances, and when he checked her heart and lungs, they too were handling the pressures associated with this operation. As before, she was being lulled into a sense of false security. Her mind was in such a confused state that she had no recollection of what had happened to her previously, something that he was depending upon for maximum effect. This time there was no abrupt change that threw her from one state to another. Instead it was insidious the way he raised the level of water to just cover her nose. On every other cycle he added perhaps an ounce or two of water. It took many cycles before it dawned on the woman that she was now immersed below the water level at the end of each swing. Still, most of the time she was able to draw breath.

 

      Now the executioner began to pull the wings off this fly. Not only did he continue to add more water to the tank after each cycle, he started penetrating her cunt with his long fingers, distracting her to the point that she lost her composure, swallowing water that in turn made her panic. From there it was a slaughter as she lost control completely. To finish off this round he drove his fist down into her belly, not once but a number of times. It proved almost impossible for her to take a deep breath because of all the outside events that were happening. Left alone she probably would have been able to survive for much longer before starting to drown, but not this way. To add to her misery he turned up the speed at which the seesaw dunked its occupant. Celeste gasped and choked and swallowed more and more water. Then she lost all control and began inhaling the contents of the tank ending this stage of her torment.

 

      He waited until her body had totally relaxed, showing no reaction whether she was beneath the surface or above the water's level. The seesaw was stopped and he checked her vital signs. She still had a pulse, even though it was weak and thready. He decided to resuscitate her in a rather bizarre manner. Balling up his large hand into a fist he began to fist-fuck his victim. At first even her insides were cool to the touch, and she failed to respond to the meanest of assaults on her damaged cunt. He kept at it, moving deeper into her fuck tunnel and meeting significant resistance from her cooling flesh. Undeterred, he persisted and went further down that tight tube.

 

      Nearly half his forearm was inside her pussy when he decided to start fisting her seriously. Back and forth his fist went, punching away inside that tight tunnel and gradually feeling the return of some body heat, a very good sign that she was recovering. Then she moaned, coughed and brought up some water, followed by a lot more that streamed from both her mouth and nostrils. The executioner had notched another victory over death, but many bouts remained before this woman might be considered free of immediate banishment to the underworld.

 

      This time Celeste was given no opportunity to rest or prepare herself for whatever new terror her torturer planned for her. Immediately she was plunged into the tank and held at the bottom until her lungs began to take in water. Then she was brought up long enough for her to spit up the water, and once more sent to the bottom so that her lungs would again fill with water. This time he added to her agony by punching her in the belly, forcing even more water to be ingested.  Up she came to be revived for still another trip.

 

      She could not keep up with the surprises he sprang. She was fisted while she swallowed water by the pint, but still brought back to endure even more brutal treatment. His favorite and the one that broke her will to survive was to punch her in the solar plexus while she was being held under water. This paralyzed her so she couldn't breathe. Thus when he brought her up, she went into convulsions as she literally drowned in a sea of air. This challenged the executioner's skills to the maximum, for he had to wait until that network of nerves behind her stomach wall could restore themselves before he could apply his knowledge to defeat his adversary one more  time.

 

      Celeste was icy cold and gray faced before he tried to  jump start her heart with a jolt of electricity. Three times he ran current through her silent heart muscle, failing each time. At that point he went from science to folk knowledge, utilizing a long needle to probe certain muscles in her chest cavity that in principle would induce respiration. To his amazement it was successful, his subject had once more cheated death, allowing him to carry out more of his agenda. What he didn't know was that the long period devoid of oxygen for her brain had turned her into more of a vegetable than a human being.

 

      She remained on the seesaw, but now it was moved to another section of the room, near a drain and a water tap that jutted from the wall. The executioner produced a rubber mask that fit over the lower portion of Celeste's face, with a small opening that was located in the area of her mouth.  A length of rubber tubing was attached to the opening, making a fit that was akin to a seal. The other end in turn was attached to the water tap. Celeste made no attempt to struggle or show any interest in what was about to transpire, her mind having shut down except for certain critical functions such as breathing and sensing. Although she could see and hear, what those inputs meant to her badly damaged brain were unknown.

 

      This torture was a variation on what was often done to heretics during the Inquisition. Hundreds of years later, it still was basically the same. Celeste's stomach would be filled with water at various rates, but always with the same result. Her stomach would expand until it intruded into space normally occupied by her lungs. If carefully done the victim would be slowly suffocated. The trick was to inflate her stomach at a very slow rate once it started making contact with her lungs. If done too quickly her body would attempt to violently expel the contents of her swollen belly, often with disastrous consequences. If done with care, and repeated often enough, the victim's stomach muscles could be weakened to the point that they would not function properly. Her belly would then undergo catastrophic expansion that would not only flatten her lungs, it could lead to the rupture of her stomach, causing an agonizing death.

 

      For his own reasons the executioner was not interested in weakening Celeste's stomach muscles, perhaps because it would take an inordinate amount of time, and he had other plans for her once this phase of her torture was done. The first time he filled her rapidly, measuring  Celeste's girth and checking her lungs every few  minutes as she struggled to keep up with the flow of water entering her mouth. On occasion she would falter and water would be expelled from her nostrils, much to the delight of her torturer. He was unhappy about her overall lack of response to this fiendish process. Most of the time she merely swallowed automatically and made no noticeable response to the enormous swelling of her stomach. Gradually her face lost color and her breathing became labored as more and more of her lung capacity was taken away by her evergrowing belly that now made her appear to be in an advanced stage of pregnancy. The executioner stopped the flow of water so she could accommodate to her new body state, now dominated by her belly. He continued to check her lungs and satisfied that she still could take more water, he opened the tap and finished her off.

 

                        (To be continued-lex ludite)