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A Capital Punishment Trial in Modern Singapore

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Another great
Interview Room, Security Detention, Central Station 10:00 AM

As she entered the interview room, Barb’s heart leapt at the sight of the handsome Jeffrey Hodges. She started toward him, but as she did, a woman in the room ordered her to halt. Barb looked in confusion from Jeffrey to the woman and back.

Jeffrey in turn was shocked at Barb’s appearance, the brief sack uniform, the heavy chains and the dark circles under her eyes. Without makeup to cover the marks of strain, Barb looked years older than when he had first seen her.

“It’s OK, Barb,” he said, “she’s the court monitor who’s to ensure that nothing improper happens here. We must sit on opposite side of the table and not touch. It is much stricter here than in the regular jail.”

“Don’t I know it!” Barb said. “I want you to file a formal complaint for me. My treatment here has been outrageous. Why, when I first got booked in, this horrible man…”

“BARB.” Jeffrey cut her off, sneaking a sideways glance at the monitor. They didn’t need reports that Barb was falsifying charge against her jailors again. He had to concentrate to keep his train of thought. The loose uniform gave him glimpses of her breasts that were quite distracting.

“You are in serious trouble here and complaints to the authorities will not help you. They can only make matters worse. We need to concentrate on your defense against some very dangerous charges!”

“OK, OK, but it’s not fair!” said Barb with a note of childish whine. “What about bail? How soon can you get me out of here?”

“I can try to get the hearing judge tomorrow to set bail. Honestly, Barbara, I think that’s a long shot, given the serious charges.”

“If you can’t get bail, at least get me back in the women’s section of the jail. Those matrons were much better than the guards I have now.”

Jeffrey was exhausted. He had gotten home very late and then spent two hours caring for his wife, whose hyperemesis gravidarum was particularly bad, leaving him to clean up vomit. After only a few hours of sleep, he had risen early to go to the law library on the way to the jail to research the charges. Even sleep deprived, he was soon alert as he read about the great danger Barb was in.

“I can try for that tomorrow if I can’t get bail. However, right now, we need to concentrate on your defense. I’m afraid that it doesn’t look promising.”

“But it’s not fair! I’m innocent! You have to show them I’m innocent!”

“I’ll try, but we have nothing besides your word. Three very credible witnesses saw you standing alone in the anteroom over Rose’s body. The head matron reported that you said you wanted to kill Rose. And worst of all, on tape, in front of four men at the end of your interview, you said, and I quote: “I killed her!”

“Oh my God, Jeffrey! It can’t be that bad. I just want to go home.”

“If you’re convicted, going home will not be an option. They have very harsh sentences here, as you’ve already learned.”

“No, God, NO! You don’t mean…I can’t be caned again, can I?”

“You could be caned, certainly, but that’s not the worst.”

“What! Worse? What do you mean? Tell me!”

“I think it’s better that you not know now. Let’s just work on your defense.”

“God! You can’t leave me not knowing. I’m not some little child,” she said, stamping her foot. “I insist on hearing it all. Give me the ‘worst-case’ scenario. Prison?”

“Are you sure you want to hear?”

“Yes, Jeffrey, trust me, I can take it.”

“OK. If you are convicted of culpable homicide, that can bring the death penalty.”

“WHAT! No! God, they wouldn’t! Haven’t they outlawed the death penalty? I thought everyone but the US had.”

“Not here. And there’s more.”

“More??

“There are two special circumstances that they might apply. First your smuggling the drugs is a very serious add on. Second, the fact that the crime took place while you were in custody makes it much more serious. A so-called “Jailhouse killing”, is taken most seriously.”

“But what can you mean by more? Nothing can be worse than death?”

“Yes, I’m afraid there is more. The death penalty here is usually a long drop hanging…” Barb gulped and felt faint, “with almost instantaneous death…but for enhanced circumstances, they have several alternatives.”

Barb tried to stay focused. “What are the alternatives?” she swallowed hard, her head aching.

“First, a substantial caning before execution – even harder than what you suffered.”

Barb went very pale. “No,” she whimpered, “No!”

“Second, a slow strangulation style of hanging; it stretches out death for several minutes.” Jeffrey saw her face turn a whiter shade of pale. “And third…”

“There’s a third,” said Barb in a high, weak voice. She felt sure she would pass out any moment.

“Impalement. You are mounted on a thick, pointed pole thrust in your…ahem, in your vagina or your anus, and allowed to slip down slowly until it tears you apart from within.”

Barbara gave a short high cry and collapsed onto the table.
Another great chapter PrPr, you are keeping up a high standard.
 
What a waste, of a perfectly good piece of ass.
I feel much the same way, which is why I often save my heroines at the last moment (though not before much suffering). In fact I have gotten in a bit of a rut with the Lone Ranger riding to the rescue at the last moment. I would like to end one with the axe falling. After all, on CF, Barbara has returned many times, as enticing as ever.
 
Interview Room, Security Detention, Central Station 10:45 AM

A nurse had been called and, in just a few moments, Barb was revived.

“My God, Jeffrey! You can’t mean that they might do those things to me! You’ve got to get me off! Tell me what to say! I’ll say anything!” Barb’s voice was rising to a loud wail. “What do I say? I’ll do anything! You’ve got to save me!” If she hadn't been chained, she'd have leapt across the table into Jeffrey's arms!

Hodges looked over at the court monitor who seemed to be listening closely to what the prisoner was saying, while holding a notebook in her hands. Hell, Jeffrey thought! We can’t let her think we would make up testimony!

“All I need you to do is tell the truth. The complete and honest truth!”

“Well, yes. I can do that, I suppose. If that’s best? I always tell the truth. But that death penalty! My God!” she started sobbing.

Unable to reach out and comfort her, Jeffrey just had to sit and wait for her to regain some self-control, which took Barbara a long time.

When Barb finally regained control, she asked, “What will I need to say tomorrow? Should we rehearse?”

Jeffrey stole another look at the monitor. “You won’t say anything tomorrow except, ‘Not Guilty.’ This is just a hearing on holding you for trial, and that’s guaranteed to happen. It will be just procedural things like bail and the trial date. I’ll do all the talking for us.”

“OK, but do I get to tell my side?”

“Not until the trial. Now Barb,” Jeffrey spoke very seriously and tried to hold her attention. “It’s EXTREMELY important that you say nothing. You are too prone to blurt out things that just get you in trouble. You need to not say anything tomorrow but what I instruct you. Do you understand?”

“Of course, I do,” replied Barb in a bit of a huff, stamping her foot again. “I can control myself. I’m not a child. I resent being spoken to like that.”

“I’m sorry,” said Jeffrey with a resigned sigh. “I know you’ll do well. It’s just that it is very important to start off well with the judge. Whoever, we draw tomorrow will, in all likelihood, be the trial judge and will be in control of your fate.”

“Count on me,” said Barb. "I'll wrap the judge around my little pinkie."

Jeff rolled his eyes, a gesture lost on Barbara who was busy tossing her hair and mentally primping herself to flirt with the new judge.

“Yes. Well, just be sure to follow my instructions. Now lets’ go over your side of what happened. I’ve seen your tape and signed transcript, but I wish to hear it direct from you and I have a few questions.”

“Of course,” said Barb. “This way you’ll hear my story and see how I’m completely innocent!’

Over the next two hours, Jeffrey had her repeat her story several times. He asked many questions, especially when the story changed and she contradicted herself, which was often. As he had her repeat the story for the third time, he despaired to realize it was the third, very different version. What was the truth? He wanted to challenge her to be truthful and stick to one story, but he was afraid of doing that as he caught the monitor, out of the corner of his eye, jotting down notes.

He had to tread carefully to avoid appearing to coach her story and Barbara herself became more annoyed and less cooperative as she was forced to repeat parts and deal with the discrepancies he pointed out.

Despite his questioning, Jeffrey at the end was no closer to hearing a coherent, believable story than at the beginning. Lack of sleep and worry brought his headache back and his patience was wearing thin as Barb’s totally evaporated. Finally, he decided that it was counterproductive to continue at this time and halted the questions. He tried to be encouraging to Barb as she departed, but both knew it hadn’t gone well.

After Barbara and the monitor had left, Hodges sat for a long time at the desk, trying to see some way to help Barb’s case. Eventually, with no answer, he stood to leave. As he went out into the hall, he felt like crying.
 
After Barbara and the monitor had left, Hodges sat for a long time at the desk, trying to see some way to help Barb’s case. Eventually, with no answer, he stood to leave. As he went out into the hall, he felt like crying.

Hopeless, isn’t it? Enough to make a grown man cry! :facepalm:

Another strong chaptet:popcorn:
 
Cell, Security Detention, Central Station 11:40 AM

Barbara Moore felt even worse than Jeffrey Hodges as she shuffled back to her cell, escorted by two large, silent guards. Try as she might to distract her thoughts, the visions of horrible death kept crowding back into her mind. They had to see that she was innocent! But even Jeffrey didn’t seem to believe her story, questioning her over and over, nitpicking tiny errors. She kept thinking how she could change it to make it seem more convincing, what new she could add to make it all seem true.

The long walk down the halls made the tight steel shackles chafe her wrists and ankles and the tight chains made walking difficult. The silent bulk of her guards just reinforced the injustice of the systems in this shit-hole of a country! She had been unfairly accused and now was unfairly treated by these dummies.

They came to her cell and the guards had her enter and stand in the middle. One stood in front of her while the other knelt down behind with a key to unlock her ankles. He was unsuccessful and said, “Must be the wrong key. I’ll have to try another.”

Distraught, hurting, tired - Barb lost her patience with the casual incompetence of the men, “Hurry up you fucking idiot! How hard is it to get the right key!”

The guard standing in front said, “Harry, the princess here thinks you’re an idiot! I’ll help you with her. Hold her arms so she doesn’t fall.”

“Right, Trivikram,” said the other who quickly rose, grabbed her by the elbows, and yanked them back together hard, with his hips forward against her back. Just as Barb cried out, Trivikram, the guard in front, drove his baton hard into her abdomen, just below the navel. A whoop of air escaped her mouth as her belly collapsed under the impact. The sudden, powerful blow caught her completely unexpecting and unprepared. Before she could regain her breath, he drove the baton in again, high, near the solar plexus. Barb doubled over in pain, her diaphragm in spasm, her breathing difficult. Harry released her arms and allowed her to fall hard to the floor, banging her hips and her right cheek.

“I don’t seem to be able to find the right key,” Harry said. "Guess I'm just an idiot, Miss Moore. You’ll just have to wear those a while longer until this idiot finds it.” He gave her a hard kick in the ass with his boot, drawing a pained groan. “Might take the idiot a while, sorry.” The two guards left and locked the door, leaving Barbara lying on the floor, chained, moaning, and gasping for breath.

She lay there for a long time, crying tears of pain and fear. Her belly clinched in pain and she felt her gorge rise into her throat. She swallowed desperately to avoid vomiting and saliva pooled in her mouth and dribbled out her lips.

At least, she had the strength to sit up and scoot across the rough floor to the cot. Painfully, she got herself on the bed and curled up, shackled and crying. Her middle went on hurting for a long time and she was sure she’d suffered internal injuries. Her ass ached from a deep bruise.

Over the course of midday and the early afternoon, she lay undisturbed. Gradually the ache in her middle faded and her fears of serious damage receded. But the horror of her situation cut through her thoughts like a terrible nightmare. The swift violence of the assault showed her how vulnerable and defenseless she was here. Her body was at the mercy of sadistic guards who could hurt her whenever they wanted, just as the intake monsters had raped her at will. Nothing prevented her from being beaten or raped at any time! Looming over it all, was the threat of being sentenced to death! Even a horribly suffering death. Jeffrey just had to get her acquitted!

Eventually the two guards returned. They ordered her to stand in the center of the cell. Still very sore, she managed to get off the bed and shuffle to the spot. They unfastened the chains and replaced them with the simple wrist cuffs in front. A slightly larger tray of food for dinner was set on the bed and she was left alone. Even with stomach pains, the long fast since only a small breakfast had Barb famished and she soon finished the meal.

A little later the two guards entered. The one whom she had called an idiot, Harry, asked, “Still think I’m an idiot, bitch?”

“No, sir,” she replied softly, terrified of another attack.

“Then show some respect. My shoes have gotten dirty working with the scum here today. Get down and lick them clean.”

Barb just stood and stared at him open-mouthed for a moment not believing he could be serious. He brought his face close to hers and grinned menacingly, “Do it, bitch, unless you want my baton up your ass!”

Shivering, Barbara sank to her knees and bent down to his dirty shoes. Tentatively, she extended her tongue to lick the black leather. Immediately, the gritty, sour taste and feel repulsed her. As she raised her head to protest, the guard pulled up her loose shift and tapped his thick baton on her asscrack. “Lick Now!”

Oh my God! He meant it! He’ll sodomize me with that! Somehow, she stuck out her tongue and proceeded to run it over the filthy surface. It seemed to take forever as she fought the gag reflex.

For about fifteen minutes, the guards joked with each other about what they wanted to do with her and her body. Hearing the frightening and disgusting threats, she struggled to please. Finally, he pronounced her efforts acceptable. The guards exited with the tray and she was left to her own thoughts.

Barbara huddled up on the cot, arms tight around her legs, sobbing. She had never imagined that anyone could be so humiliated and degraded.
 
Cell, Security Detention, Central Station 11:40 AM

Barbara Moore felt even worse than Jeffrey Hodges as she shuffled back to her cell, escorted by two large, silent guards. Try as she might to distract her thoughts, the visions of horrible death kept crowding back into her mind. They had to see that she was innocent! But even Jeffrey didn’t seem to believe her story, questioning her over and over, nitpicking tiny errors. She kept thinking how she could change it to make it seem more convincing, what new she could add to make it all seem true.

The long walk down the halls made the tight steel shackles chafe her wrists and ankles and the tight chains made walking difficult. The silent bulk of her guards just reinforced the injustice of the systems in this shit-hole of a country! She had been unfairly accused and now was unfairly treated by these dummies.

They came to her cell and the guards had her enter and stand in the middle. One stood in front of her while the other knelt down behind with a key to unlock her ankles. He was unsuccessful and said, “Must be the wrong key. I’ll have to try another.”

Distraught, hurting, tired - Barb lost her patience with the casual incompetence of the men, “Hurry up you fucking idiot! How hard is it to get the right key!”

The guard standing in front said, “Harry, the princess here thinks you’re an idiot! I’ll help you with her. Hold her arms so she doesn’t fall.”

“Right, Trivikram,” said the other who quickly rose, grabbed her by the elbows, and yanked them back together hard, with his hips forward against her back. Just as Barb cried out, Trivikram, the guard in front, drove his baton hard into her abdomen, just below the navel. A whoop of air escaped her mouth as her belly collapsed under the impact. The sudden, powerful blow caught her completely unexpecting and unprepared. Before she could regain her breath, he drove the baton in again, high, near the solar plexus. Barb doubled over in pain, her diaphragm in spasm, her breathing difficult. Harry released her arms and allowed her to fall hard to the floor, banging her hips and her right cheek.

“I don’t seem to be able to find the right key,” Harry said. "Guess I'm just an idiot, Miss Moore. You’ll just have to wear those a while longer until this idiot finds it.” He gave her a hard kick in the ass with his boot, drawing a pained groan. “Might take the idiot a while, sorry.” The two guards left and locked the door, leaving Barbara lying on the floor, chained, moaning, and gasping for breath.

She lay there for a long time, crying tears of pain and fear. Her belly clinched in pain and she felt her gorge rise into her throat. She swallowed desperately to avoid vomiting and saliva pooled in her mouth and dribbled out her lips.

At least, she had the strength to sit up and scoot across the rough floor to the cot. Painfully, she got herself on the bed and curled up, shackled and crying. Her middle went on hurting for a long time and she was sure she’d suffered internal injuries. Her ass ached from a deep bruise.

Over the course of midday and the early afternoon, she lay undisturbed. Gradually the ache in her middle faded and her fears of serious damage receded. But the horror of her situation cut through her thoughts like a terrible nightmare. The swift violence of the assault showed her how vulnerable and defenseless she was here. Her body was at the mercy of sadistic guards who could hurt her whenever they wanted, just as the intake monsters had raped her at will. Nothing prevented her from being beaten or raped at any time! Looming over it all, was the threat of being sentenced to death! Even a horribly suffering death. Jeffrey just had to get her acquitted!

Eventually the two guards returned. They ordered her to stand in the center of the cell. Still very sore, she managed to get off the bed and shuffle to the spot. They unfastened the chains and replaced them with the simple wrist cuffs in front. A slightly larger tray of food for dinner was set on the bed and she was left alone. Even with stomach pains, the long fast since only a small breakfast had Barb famished and she soon finished the meal.

A little later the two guards entered. The one whom she had called an idiot, Harry, asked, “Still think I’m an idiot, bitch?”

“No, sir,” she replied softly, terrified of another attack.

“Then show some respect. My shoes have gotten dirty working with the scum here today. Get down and lick them clean.”

Barb just stood and stared at him open-mouthed for a moment not believing he could be serious. He brought his face close to hers and grinned menacingly, “Do it, bitch, unless you want my baton up your ass!”

Shivering, Barbara sank to her knees and bent down to his dirty shoes. Tentatively, she extended her tongue to lick the black leather. Immediately, the gritty, sour taste and feel repulsed her. As she raised her head to protest, the guard pulled up her loose shift and tapped his thick baton on her asscrack. “Lick Now!”

Oh my God! He meant it! He’ll sodomize me with that! Somehow, she stuck out her tongue and proceeded to run it over the filthy surface. It seemed to take forever as she fought the gag reflex.

For about fifteen minutes, the guards joked with each other about what they wanted to do with her and her body. Hearing the frightening and disgusting threats, she struggled to please. Finally, he pronounced her efforts acceptable. The guards exited with the tray and she was left to her own thoughts.

Barbara huddled up on the cot, arms tight around her legs, sobbing. She had never imagined that anyone could be so humiliated and degraded.
This is absolutely brilliant..and reminds me of some disgusting pen and ink illustrations I saw somewhere.
:eek: :p :devil:
E0F0B957-A4EF-48B2-B6DE-D905D62FC4BC.jpeg580D1EE6-2D08-429F-9A42-96F96D2A71A6.jpeg
 
Cell, Security Detention, Central Station 11:40 AM

Barbara Moore felt even worse than Jeffrey Hodges as she shuffled back to her cell, escorted by two large, silent guards. Try as she might to distract her thoughts, the visions of horrible death kept crowding back into her mind. They had to see that she was innocent! But even Jeffrey didn’t seem to believe her story, questioning her over and over, nitpicking tiny errors. She kept thinking how she could change it to make it seem more convincing, what new she could add to make it all seem true.

The long walk down the halls made the tight steel shackles chafe her wrists and ankles and the tight chains made walking difficult. The silent bulk of her guards just reinforced the injustice of the systems in this shit-hole of a country! She had been unfairly accused and now was unfairly treated by these dummies.

They came to her cell and the guards had her enter and stand in the middle. One stood in front of her while the other knelt down behind with a key to unlock her ankles. He was unsuccessful and said, “Must be the wrong key. I’ll have to try another.”

Distraught, hurting, tired - Barb lost her patience with the casual incompetence of the men, “Hurry up you fucking idiot! How hard is it to get the right key!”

The guard standing in front said, “Harry, the princess here thinks you’re an idiot! I’ll help you with her. Hold her arms so she doesn’t fall.”

“Right, Trivikram,” said the other who quickly rose, grabbed her by the elbows, and yanked them back together hard, with his hips forward against her back. Just as Barb cried out, Trivikram, the guard in front, drove his baton hard into her abdomen, just below the navel. A whoop of air escaped her mouth as her belly collapsed under the impact. The sudden, powerful blow caught her completely unexpecting and unprepared. Before she could regain her breath, he drove the baton in again, high, near the solar plexus. Barb doubled over in pain, her diaphragm in spasm, her breathing difficult. Harry released her arms and allowed her to fall hard to the floor, banging her hips and her right cheek.

“I don’t seem to be able to find the right key,” Harry said. "Guess I'm just an idiot, Miss Moore. You’ll just have to wear those a while longer until this idiot finds it.” He gave her a hard kick in the ass with his boot, drawing a pained groan. “Might take the idiot a while, sorry.” The two guards left and locked the door, leaving Barbara lying on the floor, chained, moaning, and gasping for breath.

She lay there for a long time, crying tears of pain and fear. Her belly clinched in pain and she felt her gorge rise into her throat. She swallowed desperately to avoid vomiting and saliva pooled in her mouth and dribbled out her lips.

At least, she had the strength to sit up and scoot across the rough floor to the cot. Painfully, she got herself on the bed and curled up, shackled and crying. Her middle went on hurting for a long time and she was sure she’d suffered internal injuries. Her ass ached from a deep bruise.

Over the course of midday and the early afternoon, she lay undisturbed. Gradually the ache in her middle faded and her fears of serious damage receded. But the horror of her situation cut through her thoughts like a terrible nightmare. The swift violence of the assault showed her how vulnerable and defenseless she was here. Her body was at the mercy of sadistic guards who could hurt her whenever they wanted, just as the intake monsters had raped her at will. Nothing prevented her from being beaten or raped at any time! Looming over it all, was the threat of being sentenced to death! Even a horribly suffering death. Jeffrey just had to get her acquitted!

Eventually the two guards returned. They ordered her to stand in the center of the cell. Still very sore, she managed to get off the bed and shuffle to the spot. They unfastened the chains and replaced them with the simple wrist cuffs in front. A slightly larger tray of food for dinner was set on the bed and she was left alone. Even with stomach pains, the long fast since only a small breakfast had Barb famished and she soon finished the meal.

A little later the two guards entered. The one whom she had called an idiot, Harry, asked, “Still think I’m an idiot, bitch?”

“No, sir,” she replied softly, terrified of another attack.

“Then show some respect. My shoes have gotten dirty working with the scum here today. Get down and lick them clean.”

Barb just stood and stared at him open-mouthed for a moment not believing he could be serious. He brought his face close to hers and grinned menacingly, “Do it, bitch, unless you want my baton up your ass!”

Shivering, Barbara sank to her knees and bent down to his dirty shoes. Tentatively, she extended her tongue to lick the black leather. Immediately, the gritty, sour taste and feel repulsed her. As she raised her head to protest, the guard pulled up her loose shift and tapped his thick baton on her asscrack. “Lick Now!”

Oh my God! He meant it! He’ll sodomize me with that! Somehow, she stuck out her tongue and proceeded to run it over the filthy surface. It seemed to take forever as she fought the gag reflex.

For about fifteen minutes, the guards joked with each other about what they wanted to do with her and her body. Hearing the frightening and disgusting threats, she struggled to please. Finally, he pronounced her efforts acceptable. The guards exited with the tray and she was left to her own thoughts.

Barbara huddled up on the cot, arms tight around her legs, sobbing. She had never imagined that anyone could be so humiliated and degraded.

E0F0B957-A4EF-48B2-B6DE-D905D62FC4BC.jpeg

Gasp! Yuch! The only positive thing I can say is that forced boot licking probably isn’t as bad as forced cock sucking. :rolleyes:

Another superbly written, breathtakingly harrowing chapter, PrPr. This just gets scarier and scarier!

As do Monty’s illustrations!
 
Gasp! Yuch! The only positive thing I can say is that forced boot licking probably isn’t as bad as forced cock sucking. :rolleyes:
Sounds like something we should put to the test. One’s boots do get rather dirty during a shift at the prison; it’s good to know Barb can do something useful.
272871AA-48F7-4BFD-8DF6-A976981B347B.gif(GIF)
 
Shhhhh ... don’t tell him, but I tied his shoelaces together while I was licking his boots
Complaining and protesting are merely annoying, we all know that you possess much more endearing skills!
Barb, if you can tie his shoe laces together with your tongue, you certainly have an awesome skill! :clapping: :clapping:
 
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Funny, but not too clever, you`ll probably smart for that.
This small act of rebellion reminds me of a story told by an old work colleague, who had been a POW of the Japanese in Malaya. The prisoners were been used to repair a war damaged dock and pouring large quantities of concrete. They noticed that the Japanese officer in charge had rested his Samurai sword and scabbard against a wall, they created a diversion, and then buried the sword and scabbard deep in the concrete.
The resulting furore and beatings were worth it, he said, the feeling of getting one over on their hated captors was fantastic.
 
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