Stan 19
Stan had seen a lot in twenty seven years on the force, but this was a new one-Barb and her gal pal Georgie putting on a lesbo show right there in front of an audience. Not surprisingly, the crowd jumped to their feet and began wildly cheering them on with catcalls and whistles and shouts of “That’s it ladies!” and “Come on Anne, don’t keep your lady-in-waiting waiting!” A few of the couples in the audience, excited by the show and by the previous spectacle were undressing and soon began coupling madly, cheered on by the rest of the spectators.
Seeing that a regular orgy was breaking out and unable to take his eyes off Georgie’s ass, which had been so very attractively striped by his whip, Stan turned to Bill, “You wouldn’t mind if I have a turn with Georgie, would you?”
“Seeing as you’re my guest, of course not, Stan, as long as I can have a turn with Barb,” Bill replied. Stan nodded and then, wasting no time, stripped off his royal robes and positioned himself behind Georgie and slid inside her passageway, which was well lubricated with her own juices as well as Barb’s saliva. She squealed, whether from delight as he pounded her from behind while Barb licked her from underneath or from pain as his hips ground into her very tender buttocks, or both, Stan couldn’t say. Nor, frankly, did he care.
Soon, Stan felt that familiar feeling and emptied himself into Georgie, collapsing onto her, breathless. It was indeed good to be the King. Seeing his opportunity, Bill rolled Georgie off Barb, slid inside Barb and began pounding away vigorously. “I bet you’ve never fucked a Queen before,” Stan said. Bill shook his head and soon grunted his pleasure. Being the King’s Chief Minister wasn’t so bad either.
Eventually, everyone had satisfied their carnal desires, picked up their clothes from where they had strewn them on the floor and began dressing as Covington announced, “Ladies and gentlemen, please take your places. The Trial of Queen Anne Boleyn for treason, adultery and incest is about to begin. You the audience being a jury of her peers, will sit in judgement.”
Barb stood holding what remained of the clothes that the guards had torn off her, looking unsure as to whether she should put them on or not. “It’s court,” Stan shouted at her. “For Pete’s sake, you slut, put some clothes on.” She pulled the dress over her head, doing her best to adjust the fabric so that it covered at least a bit of her breasts. Her hair was disheveled and her face was streaked with tears and Georgie’s secretions. She looked, Stan had to admit, a mess.
“The prosecution may present its case,” Covington announced once everyone was dressed and in their place.
Cromwell approached the audience. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,” he pronounced in silken tones, “This is a simple case. The accused, Anne Boleyn, did commit adultery against her King and lawfully wedded husband and did consort with her own brother, George Boleyn, the Viscount Rochford. This conduct was witnessed by her lady-in-waiting, Margery Horsman, whose testimony regarding these calumnious acts you have heard. Furthermore, you have heard the confession of Anne herself. Such acts against the person of the King additionally constitute treason. There can be no doubt as to your verdict.”
“She’s guilty! Burn her, the treasonous bitch!” yelled one member of the impartial jury to general shouts of “Right!” and “You tell her!”
Covington intervened. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, while the evidence appears damning, English law is scrupulously fair. We must hear from the defense. Queen Anne, you may speak.”
Anne cleared her throat. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury. Surely you have seen that the testimony of Margery Horsman and mine own confession were extracted under extreme and brutal torture. You cannot accept them as true. Justice demands that you find me innocent of these preposterous charges.”
“It has been my experience that torture brings out the truth much more than it hides it,” Cromwell interjected. The members of the jury nodded in assent.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, you have heard the evidence from both sides. Now it is time to render your verdict,” Covington said. “All who find the defendant, Anne Boleyn guilty of treason, adultery and incest, say ‘Aye’”. Shouts of “Aye!” rang off the old stone walls. “All who find the defendant not guilty say, ‘Nay’”. The silence was deafening.
“This is a completely ridiculous farce of a trial!” Anne shouted.
“Silence!” Covington roared to the delight of the audience.
“The defendant, Anne Boleyn, is hereby found guilty. It is now up to His Majesty the King to pronounce sentence.” Covington said. All eyes turned to Henry, who did his best to look solemn.
“My dear Anne,” Henry began. “I once did truly love you, but your conduct has deeply disappointed and dismayed me. You deserve to die and die you shall. The normal punishment for your heinous crimes is to be burnt at the stake.”
“Burn her!” the crowd shouted.
“However, because of your standing as Queen and because of the affection I once held for you, I am going to bestow upon you a final and undeserved mercy. I hereby sentence you, Anne Boleyn to be beheaded here in this Tower, forthwith.”
Two guards immediately each seized an arm. Anne looked like she might struggle, but when another guard dragged out a heavy, well used wooden block and another emerged from the shadows with a very sharp-looking ax and stood waiting at attention, Anne seemed to accept her fate and composed herself as best she could. The guards led her to the chopping block and made her kneel, her neck resting in the indentation on the top of the oaken structure, where the necks of so many condemned had rested before. Margery came to stand by her side, holding Anne’s arm lightly. (Author’s note: Anne was actually beheaded as she knelt with no block by a swordsman imported from France to perform the deed, but we decided an ax and a block were cooler. For that matter, Anne wasn’t really racked and never confessed. But you wouldn’t have wanted to have read a story like that, would you have?)
“Do you have any last words, Anne?” Henry asked.
Anne spoke in a soft, but steady voice: “Good Christian people, I am come hither to die, according to law, for by the law I am judged to die, and therefore I will speak nothing against it. I come here only to die, and thus to yield myself humbly to the will of the King, my lord. And if, in my life, I did ever offend the King's Grace, surely with my death I do now atone. I come hither to accuse no man, nor to speak anything of that whereof I am accused, as I know full well that aught I say in my defence doth not appertain to you. I pray and beseech you all, good friends, to pray for the life of the King, my sovereign lord and yours, who is one of the best princes on the face of the earth, who has always treated me so well that better could not be, wherefore I submit to death with good will, humbly asking pardon of all the world. If any person will meddle with my cause, I require them to judge the best. Thus I take my leave of the world, and of you, and I heartily desire you all to pray for me. Oh, Lord, have mercy on me! To God I commend my soul. (Author’s note: There is some dispute among historians as to whether she actually said these words, but it’s a damned good speech).
Anne walked calmly towards the executioner, with Margery holding her arm. When they stood a pace in front of him, Cromwell handed Margery a piece of cloth, which she tied around Anne’s eyes as a blindfold. Anne bowed her head. The axman lifted his ax.
Hmmmmmm .... I don't see any torture racks or hot braziers ... so yeah, I guess it would be ok, so long as Goldman doesn't actually go through with beheading me in the Tower of London. 
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