High Heeled Hell

Part II

"High-heeled hell" Part II
   By Aiken 1999

 "Alright, class," Miss Juniper called out, "Get to your desks quickly, 
we haven't much time to prepare our victims for their long day on the 
noose." The commotion in the room died off quickly, as her students got 
seated and shushed one another's' excited whispers. Most of them had 
seen Miss J's hanging exercises before, but only a few had experienced 
the surprise announcement of Creativity Day, where extra torments are 
added to a snuff candidate's dance, culled from the sadistic 
imaginations of her own friends and classmates.

It had been nearly a year since she had last conducted Creativity Day. 
In addition to numerous other torments, that class chose to employ 
branding irons. They impaled their victim all over her body with slender 
red hot pokers. They slipped them thru her breasts, her asscheeks, 
anywhere they could think of. Not even the tongue was spared of their 
once-consentual snuff victim named Sara. The cruelty and long duration 
of that demonstration had been legendary. Nothing inspired such 
fascination in the hallways than stories of the agony Sara endured. And 
nothing held such terror for a snuff volunteer than the possibility that 
Miss J. would pick their day for such brutal creativity exercises.

Many in the school suspected that Miss J. walked a fine line with the 
law and the school administration. Most school's snuff classes in their 
state conducted rather humane executions. But Miss J's contention was 
that real life executioners are a ruthless, unpredictable lot, and at a 
whim are subject to use any range of extreme tortures on their victims. 
Her class deserved to understand some of those extremes, to better 
prepare the girls for what they might see or experience later in life. 
There was never any rhyme or reason why some girls should suffer more 
than others, and to illustrate that fact, Miss J would spring Creativity 
Days when least expected, and upon girls who were as sweet and well 
liked as any other. It was rather like an anti-lottery, where her rare 
winners became the biggest losers.

"You've chosen to let Samantha and Tiffany last until school closes 
today," Miss J continued, "That's about six more hours. It's almost 
10:30 now and by 11:30, based on your ideas, we should have them in an 
almost unbearable predicament."

"Our immediate activities will require a bit of slack in their composure 
so I will let them down a bit from their nooses." Miss J said, tapping 
her electronic control several times. The steel platform in the floor 
rose up a couple of inches, allowing the girls' highly arched feet to 
rest securely on the floor once again. The spasms in their calves and 
ankles, and the painful grip of the nooses, which had tormented them for 
the past forty-five minutes, was now relieved, and they sucked in great 
gasps of air. Their shoulders relaxed from the ramrod stiffness every 
slow-hanging victim must maintain. They blinked away tears and sobbed 
out their thanks for a chance to rest and breathe freely again.

"Don't thank us yet, girls, "Miss J warned, "We'll be lifting you up 
onto your tiptoes again soon enough. But by all means enjoy your free 
breathing for the moment. Henry, Tina I want you to undo the buckles at 
the toes of their platform heels and place six or seven thumbtacks 
inside each of their shoes. Here's a tube of superglue you can use to 
make sure the tacks stay anchored in their shoes under the balls of 
their feet. Hold each tack for about two minutes while the glue sets. 
When you are done with the tacks you may press their feet down onto the 
tacks. Be firm about it and don't hesitate. When you're all done 
rebuckle their toe straps very tightly." Henry and Tina eagerly began 
their task.

"Please," Samantha begged, her small voice quaking with tears, "Miss 
Juniper, we know we volunteered. We want to hang. We've always wanted to 
hang, and slowly... but...not like this.... Not with every cruel thing 
you and our friends can imagine. And you're bribing them to do it with 
grades..." 

"Can we just forget about the slow part?" Tiffany echoed, "I thought 
slow-hang would mean an hour or so, not all day , and not with these 
murderous heels on.  Oh, please just do us quickly, ma'am." Tiffany 
pleaded, "And why do all those other awful things to us? We're 
completely consentual. We promise to be good and play to the 
cameras....we'll do anything you say..."

"Of course you'll play to the cameras, my dear," Miss Juniper 
cood,"You'll have to. And you've always been model students, too. But 
that doesn't change anything. You signed the papers and stood beneath 
the noose, didn't you? So now it's completely out of your hands. You're 
in for the full experience,  no matter what form it takes. Besides, 
you're not supposed to worry about anything....Teacher knows best. Be 
quiet now, or I'll strap my special ringgags on you. Remember the huge 
rings we read about last month that extrude razorsharp spikes all around 
into your cheeks and tongue? That anchors the gag in here very nicely. 
(tracing her fingernail around Tiffany's sensuously painted lips) Just 
imagine, the largest cocks in school sliding into your throat without 
the slightest difficulty or resistance. And without ANY complaining... I 
special ordered them just for this class.... And I've been waiting for 
the right occasion to try them out. Am I making myself clear?" The 
terrified girls were suddenly silent following Miss J's ominous words.

"Marcia, you and Barbara go to the supply closet. You'll find spools of 
barbed wire in there, some plain wire, some wire pliers and wire 
cutters. Careful with those barbs, so you don't get cut. They are nearly 
one half inch long, with dagger points, and there are lots of them. 
Start wrapping the wire around our victims' breasts. I know you've been 
close friends with our victims for most of your lives. That's why I've 
chosen you. Friendships must never stand in the way of a proper, 
consentual snuffing. I want you to create tight wire brassieres, with 
the barbs pressed all the way in. Once around the back...a couple of 
times around each breast...and up over the shoulders. Connect everything 
together nice and neat with the regular wire and tighten it up good with 
the pliers. Show me your stuff girls. I don't want to see any slack at 
all in these bras; I want to see their boobs sticking out as far as 
possible. Meanwhile, Blake and Chad, begin constructing the manacle 
chains we discussed that will connect the victims feet to their barb 
wired breasts. You'll find all the chains and tools necessary in the two 
top drawers next to the state flag. Miss J took her position sitting on 
the corner of her desk about 15 feet from her victims. She crossed her 
long legs casually and relaxed, watching her excited students go into 
action.

This was the place Miss J. liked to sit when she gave her lectures. From 
this position she could give all her students a good look at her legs. 
Twenty nine year old Dana Juniper was a great looking lady and she knew 
it. A shapely 128 pound auburn-haired beauty, she stood about 5 foot 5, 
but no one had ever seen her at that height. She was never without her 
high heels. She even slept in them, and bathed in high-heeled rubber 
boots. She'd had a lifelong fetish for legs, heels and feet. She 
especially delighted in making the boys get horny watching her rock her 
crossed legs and wiggle her heels all around. Once their cocks were 
fully erect she would ask them to bring her one of the reference books 
from the back shelf, or adjust the thermostat. She loved picking out the 
foot fetishists in her class and tormenting them in various ways. As far 
as she was concerned, every class she taught was Foot Fetish 101.

A good number of her fetish students were girls, too. The two darlings 
standing on her slow-hang platform were two such examples. She'd been 
watching them get excited by her foot tricks for the last couple of 
years. They went into absolute erotic trances sometimes when she fussed 
with her nylons or readjusted her shoe buckles several times in a row. 
That was the exact reason she concocted the high heel aspects of their 
hanging torture, and surprised them with it. In the extensive 
pre-candidacy interviews she conducted with them they admitted to having 
been so turned on by watching her in heels that they sometimes went 
straight home, put on their mother's tallest heels, and masturbated. 
That was the moment she decided to make their snuff something very 
different from what they expected. A snuff that compressed a lifetime of 
foot fetish torment into a single day, and illustrated the sublime 
powers of the high heeled shoe.

"Remember, class, our girls are feeling lots of remorse right about now. 
They are terribly frightened and would no doubt like to withdraw their 
choice of being our snuff volunteers. That is of no concern to us. They 
freely chose this day to be snuffed. Undoing that decision is no longer 
an option for them. Likewise you have chosen to make their death a slow 
and agonizing one, as is your right. Just as it would be if any one of 
you were delivered into the hands of an experienced professional 
hangman, there is no turning back. So do not hesitate or be drawn into 
false pity for them. That will only delay our timetable and adversely 
effect your grade." Far from hesitating, Miss J's students dove 
cheerfully into their assignments. They were as charged with fascination 
as their former classmates-turned-victims were struck with fear.

"Shhh. I'm sorry Tiff..." Marcia whispered to a softly sobbing Tiffany, 
as she tightened the wires around the poor girls breasts. "Try to be 
still now....I know we've been lovers, but I've got to get a good grade 
in this class to make up for my lousy midterms. She wants these big tits 
of yours sticking out hard and straight....and truthfully.....so do I! 
Sorry, hon, this whole thing has got me so excited I can barely stand 
it. You'd feel the same way about it if you were me. You know you would. 
I'm gonna miss you, Baby. Remember all the fun we had torturing Sara, 
and watching all the other girls get snuffed?  Remember how we'd go 
straight home, put on your mom's heels and make love for hours? I often 
thought it would be me volunteering first, or we'd both go out together, 
but I was always too damn scared Miss J would pull a C. D. on my ass. 
Then you went and did it...went and signed the papers. One chance out of 
forty or fifty, and you pulled the duty. That's the breaks, girlfriend. 
Oh well, this won't last forever. Maybe Miss J has some kind of big 
pleasure planned for you later? She often does that, and you might 
really get into it then. But even if she doesn't, it won't matter. By 
sundown you'll be long gone. Hang in there, sugar. Here we go...." 

Marcia leaned in close and kissed Tiffany softly on the lips while she 
kept twisting on the breast wires. Soon the room filled with anguished 
screams as dozens of vicious wire barbs pierced the smooth flesh of her 
breasts, sides, shoulders and back. Moments later Samantha made the same 
baleful noises at the hands of her lifelong friend Barbara. Soon 
afterward both girls cried out desperately as their feet were driven 
down onto sharp thumbtacks, then wept pitifully as Henry and Tina 
rebuckled their cruelly arched shoes. A short time later Blake and Chad 
finished adjusting their ankle chains and manacles, so that only one 
high heeled shoe could be perched on the floor at any one time. It was 
done! All the tortures the class envisioned  had been put into place in 
less than an hour. The students quickly put their tools and supplies up, 
then hurried back to their seats to watch the show.

"Observe closely, class," said Miss J, "Soon their lovely dance will 
begin." Each student studied the girls in silent fascination. Both 
Tiffany and Samantha were trembling and sweating profusely. As each 
punctured foot grew tired and shaky, the girls had to hop onto the other 
foot drawing the weary foot up behind them. Their hops exacted a painful 
toll on their feet, driving the tacks in deeper with each jump. The 
ankle chains slid thru loops clipped tightly to the opposite girls 
breast wires, so fresh torment was delivered to the other girl's breasts 
with each hop. Blood was trickling freely from the wire punctures around 
their breasts, shoulders and backs. Bloody spots were also showing up on 
the white socks that Miss J instructed them to wear under the platform 
sandals.

The class stared spellbound as the hopping continued. The girls kept 
trying to prepare for the pain of jumping onto the other foot. They 
tried to anticipate rebalancing themselves. But each time they were 
unsuccessful. Each time they stumbled awkwardly in their heels, tugging 
horribly against the wires and ropes. The agony in their feet was 
unbearable each time the next foot slammed down, but the cruel barbs 
digging into their tender breasts were far worse. The girls cried out, 
gagging on their nooses. They cursed, bargained and begged for 
deliverance, all the time postponing that dreadful next hop. The pain 
and hopelessness of their situation was clearly driving them mad. Nearly 
twenty minutes of this torture tableau went by without a word being 
spoken by their teacher or fellow students.

At length, Miss J whispered to her students. "Beautiful, isn't it, 
class? There's nothing they can do but participate in their own 
torture...for as long as we want them to. Listen, class, I know you are 
excited beyond description by the exceptional torture we are witnessing 
here. I certainly am. I can see it in every one of your eyes. I 
understand completely. Those of you who need to.... may....well....they 
may relieve themselves if they choose to. You won't be chastised for 
bringing yourself off at the sight of this unique and lovely 
demonstration."

The students needed no further encouragement. Girls and boys alike put 
their hands into their pants and rubbed themselves furiously. They 
didn't care about sticky underwear. They didn't care about an 
embarrassing smell. They were overwhelmed with sadistic lust. They were 
at the bursting point already, and almost immediately, students' cries 
of pleasure joined the victims' cries of pain. Every single one of them 
was climaxing deliriously, including Miss J. In mid-climax Miss J 
suddenly realized that the video recording this historic moment would 
certainly lead to thousands, if not millions, of additional orgasms 
throughout the world. And the day was still so young.... 

Echoes of this wicked thought sent her into orbit again. She experienced 
a long series of multiple orgasms, possibly the most she'd ever known. 
Miss J.'s cries of pleasure were among the loudest in the room. She 
might have been embarrassed had it not been for the fact that everyone 
else seemed to be coming with the same intensity. At long last everyone 
had finished masturbating, and the room was again filled with only the 
regular sounds of two ordinary girls being tortured on their high heels. 
The almost rhythmic cadence of them slowly groaning, then jumping and 
clicking, then suddenly screaming, shuffling and sobbing. Over and over 
again. For several more minutes, everyone basked in a rich sexual 
afterglow, enchanted anew by the sights and sounds of Tiffany's and 
Samantha's ordeal.

Finally, Miss J. broke their awed silence. "Congratulations, class." she 
said softly, still trying to catch her breath, "I have to say this is 
one of the most imaginative situations ever proposed at any of my 
Creativity Days. Nice breast wiring, too, girls. I didn't see a bit of 
hesitation out of any of you. Each and every one of you will receive top 
grades for this. I will even propose a special bonus for the victims' 
families for the terrific job these girls are doing, trying to cope with 
this brilliant torture. Now give yourselves a big round of applause." 
All the students clapped enthusiastically. Except for the two pitiful 
victims of course, who remained trapped, intermittently hopping inside 
their high-heeled hell.

As the clapping subsided, Miss J looked at her watch. "It's time for 
lunch," she said cheerfully, "We ran out of time before I was able to 
demonstrate some of the sexual possibilities here. That will have to 
wait until later. Most of you have other classes during the afternoon, 
but all of you are invited to come back here after your last class. That 
will be at 3:30, and I promise to keep both girls alive till then. You 
can witness their last hour and a half here on earth, and participate in 
their grand finale. I have some surprises planned, too. In the meantime, 
class is dismissed. Great work, everyone!"

The bell went off and the students hurried out noisily into the hallway. 
Miss J walked up to the girls and asked tenderly if there was anything 
she could do for them. "K-Kill us, please," Samantha said through her 
tears, "I can't take anymore of this hell. It's never going to end...Oh, 
please...please..."

"Oh...no no no," Miss Juniper replied, "Not a chance. You have the lunch 
hour, and three more classes to go. And of course the after school 
period...until 5 o'clock. That's when it will end. In the meantime you 
can take lots more. You'll see. This is the way your classmates voted to 
conduct your snuff. The pain you are experiencing is only the artful 
result of your friends' careful consideration. You have no idea the 
amount of delicious pleasure you're going to bring everyone. They 
mustn't be cheated now, and neither must you."

"You fucking bastards," Tiffany groaned in hopeless anguish, 
"Masturbating to our pain like that....Marcia was my friend....and she 
stuck these wires into my tits. She didn't have a problem twisting them 
in as hard as she could....She was loving it. Telling me all about 
it.... That bitch was always jealous of my tits...wanted hers to be as 
big as mine... All we wanted was a nice slow-hang, like a million others 
have had, and you cheated us....gave us this......oh, it's horrible!

"Now Tiffany," Miss J replied sweetly, "Don't say such things. Of course 
she was your friend. And she still is. We all are, and we love you 
dearly. We still have our jobs to do, though. And so do you. You chose 
this assignment, remember? You picked the slow-hang snuff, an A plus, 
and a rich subsidy for your family. We've just added a little bit more 
to your fantasy. A little bit more of your favorite fetish....Is it too 
much for you dear? Have we taken it too far? Well, don't blame me or 
your classmates. You knew my rules. You knew there was always the chance 
of a surprise. The possibility of Creativity Day. And still you signed 
up...even got on my waiting list to do it.... Remember Sara? Remember 
Annette and Jackie? You participated in all of them, and they were 
delightful surprises. Well, sweetheart, you and Samantha are fast 
becoming the best surprise of all. And I promise you that snuff fans 
will adore you, and climax at the sight of you a hundred years from this 
day. You need to be strong now... It's a long way until 5 o'clock."

"I can see that I'll have to use those awful ringgags on you after all. 
It's for your own good, really. They don't allow any obscenities on 
classroom videos. Oh! We mustn't forget ....this is supposed to be a 
slow hanging demonstration, so I better snug up those neck ropes for 
you."

The casually sadistic teacher then took her control box out and smoothly 
lowered the platform a couple of inches. The ropes at their necks grew 
taut once more and lifted them each onto a single agonized tiptoe. 
Immediately they were plunged back into the familiar agony of slow 
strangulation. Only now it was made far made more painful by the cruel 
disturbances their toe-hops induced.

"Here, let me fix up your lips again," she said sweetly to the girls, as 
if they had anything to say about that decision, "All that crying and 
pleading has worn your lipstick down a bit." When she was satisfied that 
their lip color looked fresh and perfect enough for the cameras, she 
applied another coat of the bright red creme to her own lips, closed up 
the tube and popped it back into her purse. "There, all pretty again," 
Miss J chirped, as she walked to the door. "See you after lunch, ladies, 
I'll be sure to have your ringgags ready for you then. You'll be needing 
them, I'm sure. Fourth period is loaded with hot sweaty jocks right 
after their workouts. When they get a look at you two, dangling there in 
your red lipstick and your slutty shoes, I promise they'll be more than 
eager to take your minds off of present problems."

Their faces slick with tears, the tormented girls could only gurgle and 
groan helplessly in response. They knew heir fate was sealed, but it 
would be a long, long time before they would be allowed any rest... of 
that they were certain.


End of part II
© 1999, Aiken