Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
At least now we know why two glasses are Barabara's limitSometimes, size does matter:
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Imprisonment and Execution in Modern Singapore Part III of Barb's Singapore Saga
- Thread starter Praefectus Praetorio
- Start date
Hugin&Munin
Presenter Of Images
With glasses like this, I would slowly have difficulties with the third or fourth.
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Of course, others are finding ways to entertain themselves on this execution eve.
Seratus Lima Puluh Dua – 15.5 Hours
Dining Room, Mr. An’s Residence, Singapore, Thursday, 8:15 PM
Dr. Chunhua Liú kneeled, watching Mr. An finish his Brandy Napolean dessert, dreading what might come next.
When she had arrived from the limo sent for her, An had met her most courteously at the door with a bow, compliments, and a light peck on the cheek. Then he took her on a brief tour of his elegant yet tasteful mansion, which was one of the most valuable in all Singapore.
The tour completed, he urged her to go into a small side bedroom.
“You have dressed most elegantly, Dr. Liú. But I have a little something different in mind to make the evening more interesting. You will find it on the bed. Please change promptly and rejoin me here.”
Knowing she had no choice but to obey, the Dr. did as she was told.
The outfit turned out to be a grossly tasteless caricature of a Doctor’s uniform, mostly sheer with cutouts for her breasts, pussy, and ass.
When she’d come out, An said she looked lovely and led her to the dining room. There he had her kneel beside the table on the hard bamboo parquet floor and cuffed her hands behind her with tight steel cuffs.
A liveried staff began bringing in his food. After he’d eaten a little, he turned to Chunhua and asked, “Are you hungry?” She nodded, yes.
An took a dirty looking plastic dog dish and placed it on the floor in front of her. He then emptied half a can of cheap, cold dog food into the bowl.
“Go ahead, Dr., I expect you to finish the bowl, or I shall be most disappointed.”
Throughout his dinner, he made comments, sly, insightful comments about Chunhua. She was astounded at his ability to bring up the parts of herself of which she was ashamed. As he made fun of her eating like a dog, he also found wounds in her inner soul to gouge. This man had an incredibly evil mind!
Somehow she had managed to eat and lick up the disgusting, gelatinous mess. Now she knelt, dog food remains smearing her face, waiting for this evil man’s next order.
Cell, Parliamentary Guards HQ, Singapore, Thursday, 8:45 PM
Josephine was preparing for bed when the cell door opened. The nurse entered stealthily. In a low voice, she said. “The chef appreciated your reaction to his meal. He gets mostly complaints from prisoners. He asked me - it is against the rules, but it is probably your last night here, so I agreed - to bring you this.” She opened her hand and out a gourmet swiss chocolate and a tiny glass of a pale brown liquor. “It’s his favorite, Frangelico.”
“Oh, thank you so much. Don’t worry, I won’t tell.”
Jo savored the melting chocolate and then sipped the hazelnut and herb-flavored liqueur.
“Please give him my thanks.”
“I will. Pleasant dreams.” She left, and the lights went down. Josephine lay down to think about the next day. However, after only a couple of minutes, she was sound asleep.
Victoria Room, Singapore Cricket Club, Thursday, 9:05 PM
Billy, John, and even the usually unflappable Terrance all jumped to their feet and offered to help Kathy stuff the lovely soft flesh back in her dress. Instead, she rose in tears and ran, rather unsteadily to the restroom, followed closely by Jeffrey. The table was, of course, in an uproar, with comments such as:
“Young women these days will do anything for attention!”
“Shit, I didn’t really get a good look!”
“I have never been so shocked! Right here in front of everybody – even her poor husband.”
“She seemed so nice, but she’s almost a whore!”
“What could possibly be in her head – air?"
“I don’t mind a slut if she has pretty breasts like that!” – Billy, naturally.
After allowing the shocked feelings to be vented, the Ambassador restored order. “Please. We must give poor Mr. Hodges some consideration. It is not his fault that his wife behaved in such an – an infamous manner. He must be devasted. When they come out, I want no untoward looks or comments.”
When the couple did emerge a minute later, with Kathy’s “wardrobe malfunction” corrected, Hodges made some muttered apologies. Despite Walkerson urging for them to stay for dessert, they left without further ado.
“I can’t b – be -believe you did that,” he stammered as they got into the limo. Kathy just cried.
“Why would you drink that much when you knew how important this was for me? I can’t believe you!” His voice was rising in anger.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I just don’t…I wasn’t think…I didn’t plan…the Ambassador!” she was sobbed violently now.
“Yes, the Ambassador! What must he think of me with a floozy, a slut, as a wife? You certainly weren’t thinking, you stupid bitch.” That was the first time he had ever said such a thing to her. “You need to learn to think.”
“Oh, Jeffrey, you don’t understand. It wasn’t my fault!” Kathy bawled.
“Oh, right. Your breast just jumped out of your dress by itself! Do you think I have shit for brains! Damn you for shaming me like that! Now I know why you got such a low dress and wore a half bra. Were you planning this, were you? What the fuck got into your brain?”
“I didn’t! You must believe me! It wasn’t meant – it was an – an accident!”
“HA! God, you are a drunken mess of a slut! How the hell can I go to the Embassy tomorrow? Tomorrow, when I have to watch two good girls be brutally executed, and my wife thinks it's fun to flash my bosses – even the Ambassador! God damn it! Do you have any idea how important he is? And how important to my career!”
“I do, Oh, God, I do!” Kathy was hysterical; her words barely intelligible through her weeping.
“Well, you are going to understand how important this all is when we get home. I’m going to teach you a lesson - a lesson you’ll never forget. You thought you were sore after last night. That was nothing!” Kathy burst into loud sob and tears. When she tried again to explain herself, Jeffrey cut her off, “Shut up now, bitch, or I’ll start in on you right here in the limo!”
Cell, Death Row, Changi Prison, Singapore, 9:25 PM
Amanda, still hooded, heard guards open the door and enter her cell. She had no way of knowing the time, though she thought it was still evening.
“OK, Moppet,” came the Chief Guard’s voice. “Moving time.”
He released her leash from the wall. Her arms were grasped, and they dragged her to her feet. Then, stumbling out to the hall and a short distance down. The procession halted, and she heard a cell door opening.
“Inside,” said Imran. She felt herself shoved forward.
Cell, Death Row, Changi Prison, Singapore, 9:35 PM
In the stifling heat and humidity inside the devilish hood, Barbara was sitting and sweating when she heard her cell door open.
Imran’s voice barked, “Inside,” and Barb hear several persons enter the cell.
“Opposite walls – Submission position,” he ordered. Guards grabbed her arms and legs and repositioned her body against the wall. They forced her legs underneath, so she was squatting on her haunches. Barb could feel her ankle chain attached tightly to the wall, along with her waist belt and collar. She had no movement except to lean back on her feet and against the stone wall.
While this was happening to her, she heard scuffling across the cell and soft, muffled cries from someone, a female.
After Barbara was secured and the sounds from the opposite wall ceased, Imran gave the short order, “Let them see each other.”
The hoods were pulled off, and Barb and Amanda each saw the other, chained as she was, on the opposite side of the cell.
“Welcome to our deathwatch, Moppet and Princess. You see that we put those who will die the next day into one cell to save space. You shall remain in these positions until we come tomorrow to take you to your deaths – your long, slow, painful deaths. It has been fun having you here, but the fun is over. Enjoy your night together. I don’t mind if you talk. I have seen what passionate lesbos you two are. So you can whisper sweet love to each other, but no touching. Oh, I guess that would be hard.”
The guard pulled the steamy hood back in place.
“By the way. If you need to meet a call of nature, don’t bother to ask the guards for help. It won’t come. If you can’t hold it, do it where you sit. We will be hosing and disinfecting the cell tomorrow, after you scum are gone.” The girls heard scattered laughs from the guards as feet shuffled to the door. Then it slammed shut, and they were left in silence and total darkness.
14.5 hours left to live
Seratus Lima Puluh Dua – 15.5 Hours
Dining Room, Mr. An’s Residence, Singapore, Thursday, 8:15 PM
Dr. Chunhua Liú kneeled, watching Mr. An finish his Brandy Napolean dessert, dreading what might come next.
When she had arrived from the limo sent for her, An had met her most courteously at the door with a bow, compliments, and a light peck on the cheek. Then he took her on a brief tour of his elegant yet tasteful mansion, which was one of the most valuable in all Singapore.
The tour completed, he urged her to go into a small side bedroom.
“You have dressed most elegantly, Dr. Liú. But I have a little something different in mind to make the evening more interesting. You will find it on the bed. Please change promptly and rejoin me here.”
Knowing she had no choice but to obey, the Dr. did as she was told.
The outfit turned out to be a grossly tasteless caricature of a Doctor’s uniform, mostly sheer with cutouts for her breasts, pussy, and ass.
When she’d come out, An said she looked lovely and led her to the dining room. There he had her kneel beside the table on the hard bamboo parquet floor and cuffed her hands behind her with tight steel cuffs.
A liveried staff began bringing in his food. After he’d eaten a little, he turned to Chunhua and asked, “Are you hungry?” She nodded, yes.
An took a dirty looking plastic dog dish and placed it on the floor in front of her. He then emptied half a can of cheap, cold dog food into the bowl.
“Go ahead, Dr., I expect you to finish the bowl, or I shall be most disappointed.”
Throughout his dinner, he made comments, sly, insightful comments about Chunhua. She was astounded at his ability to bring up the parts of herself of which she was ashamed. As he made fun of her eating like a dog, he also found wounds in her inner soul to gouge. This man had an incredibly evil mind!
Somehow she had managed to eat and lick up the disgusting, gelatinous mess. Now she knelt, dog food remains smearing her face, waiting for this evil man’s next order.
Cell, Parliamentary Guards HQ, Singapore, Thursday, 8:45 PM
Josephine was preparing for bed when the cell door opened. The nurse entered stealthily. In a low voice, she said. “The chef appreciated your reaction to his meal. He gets mostly complaints from prisoners. He asked me - it is against the rules, but it is probably your last night here, so I agreed - to bring you this.” She opened her hand and out a gourmet swiss chocolate and a tiny glass of a pale brown liquor. “It’s his favorite, Frangelico.”
“Oh, thank you so much. Don’t worry, I won’t tell.”
Jo savored the melting chocolate and then sipped the hazelnut and herb-flavored liqueur.
“Please give him my thanks.”
“I will. Pleasant dreams.” She left, and the lights went down. Josephine lay down to think about the next day. However, after only a couple of minutes, she was sound asleep.
Victoria Room, Singapore Cricket Club, Thursday, 9:05 PM
Billy, John, and even the usually unflappable Terrance all jumped to their feet and offered to help Kathy stuff the lovely soft flesh back in her dress. Instead, she rose in tears and ran, rather unsteadily to the restroom, followed closely by Jeffrey. The table was, of course, in an uproar, with comments such as:
“Young women these days will do anything for attention!”
“Shit, I didn’t really get a good look!”
“I have never been so shocked! Right here in front of everybody – even her poor husband.”
“She seemed so nice, but she’s almost a whore!”
“What could possibly be in her head – air?"
“I don’t mind a slut if she has pretty breasts like that!” – Billy, naturally.
After allowing the shocked feelings to be vented, the Ambassador restored order. “Please. We must give poor Mr. Hodges some consideration. It is not his fault that his wife behaved in such an – an infamous manner. He must be devasted. When they come out, I want no untoward looks or comments.”
When the couple did emerge a minute later, with Kathy’s “wardrobe malfunction” corrected, Hodges made some muttered apologies. Despite Walkerson urging for them to stay for dessert, they left without further ado.
“I can’t b – be -believe you did that,” he stammered as they got into the limo. Kathy just cried.
“Why would you drink that much when you knew how important this was for me? I can’t believe you!” His voice was rising in anger.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I just don’t…I wasn’t think…I didn’t plan…the Ambassador!” she was sobbed violently now.
“Yes, the Ambassador! What must he think of me with a floozy, a slut, as a wife? You certainly weren’t thinking, you stupid bitch.” That was the first time he had ever said such a thing to her. “You need to learn to think.”
“Oh, Jeffrey, you don’t understand. It wasn’t my fault!” Kathy bawled.
“Oh, right. Your breast just jumped out of your dress by itself! Do you think I have shit for brains! Damn you for shaming me like that! Now I know why you got such a low dress and wore a half bra. Were you planning this, were you? What the fuck got into your brain?”
“I didn’t! You must believe me! It wasn’t meant – it was an – an accident!”
“HA! God, you are a drunken mess of a slut! How the hell can I go to the Embassy tomorrow? Tomorrow, when I have to watch two good girls be brutally executed, and my wife thinks it's fun to flash my bosses – even the Ambassador! God damn it! Do you have any idea how important he is? And how important to my career!”
“I do, Oh, God, I do!” Kathy was hysterical; her words barely intelligible through her weeping.
“Well, you are going to understand how important this all is when we get home. I’m going to teach you a lesson - a lesson you’ll never forget. You thought you were sore after last night. That was nothing!” Kathy burst into loud sob and tears. When she tried again to explain herself, Jeffrey cut her off, “Shut up now, bitch, or I’ll start in on you right here in the limo!”
Cell, Death Row, Changi Prison, Singapore, 9:25 PM
Amanda, still hooded, heard guards open the door and enter her cell. She had no way of knowing the time, though she thought it was still evening.
“OK, Moppet,” came the Chief Guard’s voice. “Moving time.”
He released her leash from the wall. Her arms were grasped, and they dragged her to her feet. Then, stumbling out to the hall and a short distance down. The procession halted, and she heard a cell door opening.
“Inside,” said Imran. She felt herself shoved forward.
Cell, Death Row, Changi Prison, Singapore, 9:35 PM
In the stifling heat and humidity inside the devilish hood, Barbara was sitting and sweating when she heard her cell door open.
Imran’s voice barked, “Inside,” and Barb hear several persons enter the cell.
“Opposite walls – Submission position,” he ordered. Guards grabbed her arms and legs and repositioned her body against the wall. They forced her legs underneath, so she was squatting on her haunches. Barb could feel her ankle chain attached tightly to the wall, along with her waist belt and collar. She had no movement except to lean back on her feet and against the stone wall.
While this was happening to her, she heard scuffling across the cell and soft, muffled cries from someone, a female.
After Barbara was secured and the sounds from the opposite wall ceased, Imran gave the short order, “Let them see each other.”
The hoods were pulled off, and Barb and Amanda each saw the other, chained as she was, on the opposite side of the cell.
“Welcome to our deathwatch, Moppet and Princess. You see that we put those who will die the next day into one cell to save space. You shall remain in these positions until we come tomorrow to take you to your deaths – your long, slow, painful deaths. It has been fun having you here, but the fun is over. Enjoy your night together. I don’t mind if you talk. I have seen what passionate lesbos you two are. So you can whisper sweet love to each other, but no touching. Oh, I guess that would be hard.”
The guard pulled the steamy hood back in place.
“By the way. If you need to meet a call of nature, don’t bother to ask the guards for help. It won’t come. If you can’t hold it, do it where you sit. We will be hosing and disinfecting the cell tomorrow, after you scum are gone.” The girls heard scattered laughs from the guards as feet shuffled to the door. Then it slammed shut, and they were left in silence and total darkness.
14.5 hours left to live
twonines
LIMERICUS
While Chunhua is treated like a dog,
Josephine is living high off the hog.
Jeffrey whipped poor Kathy`s ass raw,
Now he`s threatening to give her some more.
Barb and Amanda, chained, naked, hooded await
Their horrible, seemingly inevitable fate.
Whether or not this saga turns out for the best,
We`ll just have to wait until Praetorio reveals the rest!
Josephine is living high off the hog.
Jeffrey whipped poor Kathy`s ass raw,
Now he`s threatening to give her some more.
Barb and Amanda, chained, naked, hooded await
Their horrible, seemingly inevitable fate.
Whether or not this saga turns out for the best,
We`ll just have to wait until Praetorio reveals the rest!
Corvid
Executioner
And Jeffrey believes that last night's rigors were largely enjoyable for Kathy... I imagine that with the intention of actually punishing her, he may behave quite savagely.
Iam excited for fear for what attentions he might pay his wife's pregnancy-sensitized breasts, those shapely feminine rounds having brought about his embarrassment...
I
settantuno
MUTUS PICTOR
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
And so, for the characters we are following, the action on this very eventful Thursday winds down. The citizens of the Republic finish their day and go home to bed. Most have had a normal day, their lives continuing their diurnal routines.
Some, like Ambassador, Walkerson, finish the day with a feeling of triumph.
Some, like Dr. Liú, have much more to endure before the day is over.
Some, like the Hodges, go home to their bed, where issues still need to be resolved.
Some, like Musa and Frost, go to bed looking forward to the morrow.
What will the next day, Friday, Execution Day in Singapore, bring?
One young woman, Josephine, will learn her fate.
Two other young women, Barbara and Amanda, already knowing their fate, sit, chained and helpless in the dark heat of their cell, each contemplating her death on the morrow.
Some, like Ambassador, Walkerson, finish the day with a feeling of triumph.
Some, like Dr. Liú, have much more to endure before the day is over.
Some, like the Hodges, go home to their bed, where issues still need to be resolved.
Some, like Musa and Frost, go to bed looking forward to the morrow.
What will the next day, Friday, Execution Day in Singapore, bring?
One young woman, Josephine, will learn her fate.
Two other young women, Barbara and Amanda, already knowing their fate, sit, chained and helpless in the dark heat of their cell, each contemplating her death on the morrow.
twonines
LIMERICUS
Captured the mood again! Fantastic.
No doubting who is the Alpha female there.
twonines
LIMERICUS
It is amazing that you have managed to keep us enthralled for so long with your excellent writing, the myriad of twists and turns and the terrific erotic violence (Well, terrific for the readers, if not for your female characters).And so, for the characters we are following, the action on this very eventful Thursday winds down. The citizens of the Republic finish their day and go home to bed. Most have had a normal day, their lives continuing their diurnal routines.
Some, like Ambassador, Walkerson, finish the day with a feeling of triumph.
Some, like Dr. Liú, have much more to endure before the day is over.
Some, like the Hodges, go home to their bed, where issues still need to be resolved.
Some, like Musa and Frost, go to bed looking forward to the morrow.
What will the next day, Friday, Execution Day in Singapore, bring?
One young woman, Josephine, will learn her fate.
Two other young women, Barbara and Amanda, already knowing their fate, sit, chained and helpless in the dark heat of their cell, each contemplating her death on the morrow.
You have certainly helped us get through the dreary monotony of the epidemic, so although we are not yet at the end, here is a hearty vote of thanks.
Cell, Death Row, Changi Prison, Thursday, Sometime before Midnight
They’ve gone and left us alone ... the two of us ... together. Me and dear sweet little Amanda, occupying the same claustrophobic and darkened death watch cell, shackled to opposite walls in what the prison guards refer to as “submission position”.
The air is hot and stifling enough, but being forced to wear these suffocating heavy hoods makes breathing nearly unbearable. To add to my misery, across the way I can hear Amanda sniffling and sobbing softly to herself. Fuck!
But then again, I am conscious of the fact that the poor thing must be absolutely terrified! I know that I should probably say something comforting to her, but what is there to say? I’m sorry? No, that would be a lie. I’m not in the least bit sorry for her. Don’t worry, it will be alright? Nonsense! We’re doomed! There’s nothing to say. Best we just ignore one another and keep to our own thoughts.
But, try as I might, I can’t escape her presence. Every so often there is a soft rustle of chain as she shifts position. Hardly surprising, that. She has to be feeling the same inevitable muscular cramps and strains, as I am. The rigors of awkwardly resting on one’s haunches, backed up against a rough stone wall, for a prolonged period will certainly see to that. The warden bastards could have allowed us more freedom of movement, but that would have been too kind.
“Barb? Are we really going to die? It’s not really going to happen, is it? I mean they must have been just trying to scare us when they showed us those dreadful contraptions with the shiny metal poles and those awful nooses! You gotta admit that Clemens guy with the heavy German accent was super scary! But somehow we’ll get out of this before it’s too late, right?”
Shit! She’s talking to me. Why can’t she just suffer in silence? Do I really have to answer?
“Barb? What do you think? Something good will happen and we’ll be saved just in the nick, don’t you think? I’m right, aren’t I?”
“Listen, Amanda. Do us both a favor and be quiet for now. I don’t want to talk. Okay?”
“Huh? Ummmm. Sure, Barb, we’ll talk later then. I know you’ll have some good answers. You’re so smart and resourceful. I really admire you and the way you stand your ground with such confidence and determination, no matter what!”
“Uh, sure ... later ...”
So, hopefully that should hold her for awhile. Well done. I need time to think. This is it, after all ... that awkward time when everything one has ever said or done in life races through one’s consciousness at break neck speed ... hurriedly so, as one’s immediately impending end of life hits home like a ton of bricks.
So many questions.
What will I be remembered for? Will I even be remembered at all? Do I deserve to die as wretchedly as this ... not as a heroine ... not as a martyr for some righteous cause ... but as a common petty criminal?
Will I accept the moment of my execution with stoic dignity? Or will I further disgrace myself by whining and begging shamelessly, screaming and swearing incoherently, struggling against any constraints hopelessly, fouling myself embarrassingly?
Will those in attendance laugh at me, savor and delight in my nakedness, revel in witnessing my fear and desperation ... or will they take pity on me, regret their decision to attend such a sordid affair, look away in disgust?
What will I miss out on in life, having had my life snatched away from me so prematurely? Would I have gone on to achieve something grand and notable? Righted some terrible wrong? Pushed back against injustices? Somehow made the world a better place?
I know that these, and many more thoughts, fears and wishes shall race through my poor distressed mind over the few precious hours I have remaining to me ... recorded nowhere ... known only to me in my deeply personal, solitary and silent hours of despair and doom.
And, of course, I know I have to come to grips with the fact that I could have ... should have ... played this affair a whole lot smarter than I did ... kept my big mouth shut, refrained from complaining, refrained from belligerently attacking and demanding, minded my language, shown respect and pretended contriteness. I regret now that I allowed my contrariness, my innate disrespect for authority, my uncontrollable impulsivity to get me into this mess in the first place, and then dig myself in deeper and deeper with each passing event.
On the other hand, I was in the right all along, wasn’t I? I mean this really is a shithole country. The justice system is corrupt. Look at the way in which I was hounded and railroaded into an untenable and indefensible legal position! And what about the horseshit legal help I received from that idiot, Jeffrey Hodges. Where was he when I needed him? Probably off fucking somebody or some thing! Some guys are just too handsome for their own good ... goes to their head every time. Yet, I’ve gotta admit ... no, let’s not go there!
“Barb? Sometimes when I’m really frightened, I try to lift my spirits by singing a little song. Would you like to sing along with me? It might do us both good.”
“No! I’d be thankful, Amanda if you’d just shut the fuck up and leave me alone. Alright?”
“0h, okay. Sorry. Maybe later?”
What a fucking idiot! But wait ... perhaps I was being too harsh. It sounds like she’s crying now. Geeze. There I go again, making things worse with my hot temper and big mouth.
She’s just a kid, and a terribly frightened one at that. She ... I mean she and me ... we’re going to be publicly executed together in an unimaginably humiliating and gruesome way in a mere matter of hours, and here I am telling her to fuck off when all the poor little thing wants is a little kindness, companionship and comfort.
“Look, Amanda. I’m sorry to have been so rude. This is all very stressful.”
“Oh, you want to join me in song then after all?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“What should we do then? I wish we could be closer, Barb. I mean physically closer. Like we were earlier today when we ... well, you know ... like what we did together in front of those awful men ... to entertain them ... you know, how we kissed and sucked and came together so lovingly and beautifully ... that is, before those brutes pulled us apart and raped us over and over again.”
I don’t want to answer that. What the point, I say to myself as I suck in a lungful of the stale, fetid air trapped within my hood, and wince as I shift my weight from one side to the other, scraping my bare back against the roughness of the wall to which I am shackled so tightly.
“Barb?”
Shit! She’s at it again ... just doesn’t get the message!
“Barb? Do you think you love me?”
Sheesh! Poor deluded thing.
“Uh, sure Amanda, if you like to think so.”
“Oh, Barb. Thank you! That makes me so so happy.”
“Good, let’s get back to our own thoughts then, shall we?”
Sometimes one has little choice but to give out the candy when dealing with such childlike innocence, I tell myself. If it makes her happy why not? Besides I have other things to fret about ... like an excruciatingly desperate need to pee.
“Barb?”
Shit, not again!
“Barb, which do you think would be worse ... having those shiny impalement rods stuck up our bottoms, or our ... uh ... you know ... oh fiddlesticks ... so embarrassing ... I never know how to say it ... up our cunts?”
“Doesn’t really matter much, does it?” I snap irritably, regretfully aware of a warm puddle of urine seeping between and under my toes.
“Does to me, I guess.” she retorts, an edge to her voice for the first time.
Silence at last. I gather she is probably pouting, having been rebuked.
Damn! Now she has begun to sob ... pitifully.
Don’t fall for it, I tell myself. The clammy heat under my hood is getting to me. A pregnant bead of sweat falls from my chin. I can feel it making it’s way downward on my skin, snaking down the hollow between my breasts and flowing freely down my tummy to rest finally in the patch of hair on my mound.
Crap! Now she has begun to bawl and wail, making quite a din in the cramped space of our cell. I worry that our jailers will be back and we will be in for a terrible beating if she didn’t stop.
“Amanda! Stop! Listen to me,” I bark, raising my voice to capture her attention and quiet her down. “Forgive me. I’m sorry if I was harsh with you, but we need to get a grip on reality. Which orifice they choose to use to impale us, is not nearly as important as the sheer barbarism of what will happen to us only a few hours from now. The awful scene will be public! Think of it, Amanda! We will be executed naked, in as diabolically brutal and as drawn out a manner as imaginable. Witnessed by an auditorium full of dignitaries and paying guests, come to revel in our agonies, sufferings and humiliations. And all of it video-recorded and distributed to who knows who and where!”
“I know, Barb. I know. It’s just ... ohhhh”
Shit! Here come the waterworks again!
“AMANDA! Stop! I’ve more to say.”
“Huh ... (sniff) ... yeah, I’m sorry, Barb. ... (sniff) ... I’m listening.”
“Okay ... So, how we behave, how we comport ourselves as we face our executions is of utmost importance. We cannot show fear or shame, no matter how much we may feel frightened and debased. Rather, we need to resolve, hear and now, together in this cell, constrained and hooded as we are, Amanda, that we shall persevere and ultimately triumph through our steadfast and fearless example. Chin up, standing straight and ramrod tall as they lead us to the instruments of death, silent as they bind us to the wheel, showing no emotion as they set the phallus to penetrate our most private opening, not a grimace as the hangman’s noose is closed and tightened around our necks!”
“Oh Barb! Those words! So inspiring! I know now, dear Barb. I truly do love you. Say that you will hold my hand when they lead us out on that stage and present us to those who fill the seats of that auditorium. I still remember how dignified and unafraid you looked back when they brought you out for your caning. I was there that day, Barb! I saw you! I want us to be like that ... like you were that day! I want us to proclaim our bravery and our steadfast undying love.”
Okay, so this is getting a bit carried away. She’s really bought into it. I can’t truthfully say that I love her, probably never could. She’s hardly my type, but for now ...
“Sure, Amanda. It will be like that. Now let’s get some rest, okay?”
“Okay, Barb. Hugs!”
They’ve gone and left us alone ... the two of us ... together. Me and dear sweet little Amanda, occupying the same claustrophobic and darkened death watch cell, shackled to opposite walls in what the prison guards refer to as “submission position”.
The air is hot and stifling enough, but being forced to wear these suffocating heavy hoods makes breathing nearly unbearable. To add to my misery, across the way I can hear Amanda sniffling and sobbing softly to herself. Fuck!
But then again, I am conscious of the fact that the poor thing must be absolutely terrified! I know that I should probably say something comforting to her, but what is there to say? I’m sorry? No, that would be a lie. I’m not in the least bit sorry for her. Don’t worry, it will be alright? Nonsense! We’re doomed! There’s nothing to say. Best we just ignore one another and keep to our own thoughts.
But, try as I might, I can’t escape her presence. Every so often there is a soft rustle of chain as she shifts position. Hardly surprising, that. She has to be feeling the same inevitable muscular cramps and strains, as I am. The rigors of awkwardly resting on one’s haunches, backed up against a rough stone wall, for a prolonged period will certainly see to that. The warden bastards could have allowed us more freedom of movement, but that would have been too kind.
“Barb? Are we really going to die? It’s not really going to happen, is it? I mean they must have been just trying to scare us when they showed us those dreadful contraptions with the shiny metal poles and those awful nooses! You gotta admit that Clemens guy with the heavy German accent was super scary! But somehow we’ll get out of this before it’s too late, right?”
Shit! She’s talking to me. Why can’t she just suffer in silence? Do I really have to answer?
“Barb? What do you think? Something good will happen and we’ll be saved just in the nick, don’t you think? I’m right, aren’t I?”
“Listen, Amanda. Do us both a favor and be quiet for now. I don’t want to talk. Okay?”
“Huh? Ummmm. Sure, Barb, we’ll talk later then. I know you’ll have some good answers. You’re so smart and resourceful. I really admire you and the way you stand your ground with such confidence and determination, no matter what!”
“Uh, sure ... later ...”
So, hopefully that should hold her for awhile. Well done. I need time to think. This is it, after all ... that awkward time when everything one has ever said or done in life races through one’s consciousness at break neck speed ... hurriedly so, as one’s immediately impending end of life hits home like a ton of bricks.
So many questions.
What will I be remembered for? Will I even be remembered at all? Do I deserve to die as wretchedly as this ... not as a heroine ... not as a martyr for some righteous cause ... but as a common petty criminal?
Will I accept the moment of my execution with stoic dignity? Or will I further disgrace myself by whining and begging shamelessly, screaming and swearing incoherently, struggling against any constraints hopelessly, fouling myself embarrassingly?
Will those in attendance laugh at me, savor and delight in my nakedness, revel in witnessing my fear and desperation ... or will they take pity on me, regret their decision to attend such a sordid affair, look away in disgust?
What will I miss out on in life, having had my life snatched away from me so prematurely? Would I have gone on to achieve something grand and notable? Righted some terrible wrong? Pushed back against injustices? Somehow made the world a better place?
I know that these, and many more thoughts, fears and wishes shall race through my poor distressed mind over the few precious hours I have remaining to me ... recorded nowhere ... known only to me in my deeply personal, solitary and silent hours of despair and doom.
And, of course, I know I have to come to grips with the fact that I could have ... should have ... played this affair a whole lot smarter than I did ... kept my big mouth shut, refrained from complaining, refrained from belligerently attacking and demanding, minded my language, shown respect and pretended contriteness. I regret now that I allowed my contrariness, my innate disrespect for authority, my uncontrollable impulsivity to get me into this mess in the first place, and then dig myself in deeper and deeper with each passing event.
On the other hand, I was in the right all along, wasn’t I? I mean this really is a shithole country. The justice system is corrupt. Look at the way in which I was hounded and railroaded into an untenable and indefensible legal position! And what about the horseshit legal help I received from that idiot, Jeffrey Hodges. Where was he when I needed him? Probably off fucking somebody or some thing! Some guys are just too handsome for their own good ... goes to their head every time. Yet, I’ve gotta admit ... no, let’s not go there!
“Barb? Sometimes when I’m really frightened, I try to lift my spirits by singing a little song. Would you like to sing along with me? It might do us both good.”
“No! I’d be thankful, Amanda if you’d just shut the fuck up and leave me alone. Alright?”
“0h, okay. Sorry. Maybe later?”
What a fucking idiot! But wait ... perhaps I was being too harsh. It sounds like she’s crying now. Geeze. There I go again, making things worse with my hot temper and big mouth.
She’s just a kid, and a terribly frightened one at that. She ... I mean she and me ... we’re going to be publicly executed together in an unimaginably humiliating and gruesome way in a mere matter of hours, and here I am telling her to fuck off when all the poor little thing wants is a little kindness, companionship and comfort.
“Look, Amanda. I’m sorry to have been so rude. This is all very stressful.”
“Oh, you want to join me in song then after all?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“What should we do then? I wish we could be closer, Barb. I mean physically closer. Like we were earlier today when we ... well, you know ... like what we did together in front of those awful men ... to entertain them ... you know, how we kissed and sucked and came together so lovingly and beautifully ... that is, before those brutes pulled us apart and raped us over and over again.”
I don’t want to answer that. What the point, I say to myself as I suck in a lungful of the stale, fetid air trapped within my hood, and wince as I shift my weight from one side to the other, scraping my bare back against the roughness of the wall to which I am shackled so tightly.
“Barb?”
Shit! She’s at it again ... just doesn’t get the message!
“Barb? Do you think you love me?”
Sheesh! Poor deluded thing.
“Uh, sure Amanda, if you like to think so.”
“Oh, Barb. Thank you! That makes me so so happy.”
“Good, let’s get back to our own thoughts then, shall we?”
Sometimes one has little choice but to give out the candy when dealing with such childlike innocence, I tell myself. If it makes her happy why not? Besides I have other things to fret about ... like an excruciatingly desperate need to pee.
“Barb?”
Shit, not again!
“Barb, which do you think would be worse ... having those shiny impalement rods stuck up our bottoms, or our ... uh ... you know ... oh fiddlesticks ... so embarrassing ... I never know how to say it ... up our cunts?”
“Doesn’t really matter much, does it?” I snap irritably, regretfully aware of a warm puddle of urine seeping between and under my toes.
“Does to me, I guess.” she retorts, an edge to her voice for the first time.
Silence at last. I gather she is probably pouting, having been rebuked.
Damn! Now she has begun to sob ... pitifully.
Don’t fall for it, I tell myself. The clammy heat under my hood is getting to me. A pregnant bead of sweat falls from my chin. I can feel it making it’s way downward on my skin, snaking down the hollow between my breasts and flowing freely down my tummy to rest finally in the patch of hair on my mound.
Crap! Now she has begun to bawl and wail, making quite a din in the cramped space of our cell. I worry that our jailers will be back and we will be in for a terrible beating if she didn’t stop.
“Amanda! Stop! Listen to me,” I bark, raising my voice to capture her attention and quiet her down. “Forgive me. I’m sorry if I was harsh with you, but we need to get a grip on reality. Which orifice they choose to use to impale us, is not nearly as important as the sheer barbarism of what will happen to us only a few hours from now. The awful scene will be public! Think of it, Amanda! We will be executed naked, in as diabolically brutal and as drawn out a manner as imaginable. Witnessed by an auditorium full of dignitaries and paying guests, come to revel in our agonies, sufferings and humiliations. And all of it video-recorded and distributed to who knows who and where!”
“I know, Barb. I know. It’s just ... ohhhh”
Shit! Here come the waterworks again!
“AMANDA! Stop! I’ve more to say.”
“Huh ... (sniff) ... yeah, I’m sorry, Barb. ... (sniff) ... I’m listening.”
“Okay ... So, how we behave, how we comport ourselves as we face our executions is of utmost importance. We cannot show fear or shame, no matter how much we may feel frightened and debased. Rather, we need to resolve, hear and now, together in this cell, constrained and hooded as we are, Amanda, that we shall persevere and ultimately triumph through our steadfast and fearless example. Chin up, standing straight and ramrod tall as they lead us to the instruments of death, silent as they bind us to the wheel, showing no emotion as they set the phallus to penetrate our most private opening, not a grimace as the hangman’s noose is closed and tightened around our necks!”
“Oh Barb! Those words! So inspiring! I know now, dear Barb. I truly do love you. Say that you will hold my hand when they lead us out on that stage and present us to those who fill the seats of that auditorium. I still remember how dignified and unafraid you looked back when they brought you out for your caning. I was there that day, Barb! I saw you! I want us to be like that ... like you were that day! I want us to proclaim our bravery and our steadfast undying love.”
Okay, so this is getting a bit carried away. She’s really bought into it. I can’t truthfully say that I love her, probably never could. She’s hardly my type, but for now ...
“Sure, Amanda. It will be like that. Now let’s get some rest, okay?”
“Okay, Barb. Hugs!”
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twonines
LIMERICUS
Barb and Amanda squat in the death cell,
Things between them aren`t going too well.
Barb thinks Amanda`s both naive and raw,
While Amanda holds Barb, her idol, in awe.
Barb, the realist, thinks all efforts have failed
Nothing can save them from being hung and impaled.
Things between them aren`t going too well.
Barb thinks Amanda`s both naive and raw,
While Amanda holds Barb, her idol, in awe.
Barb, the realist, thinks all efforts have failed
Nothing can save them from being hung and impaled.
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Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Here, I feel compelled to set aside my role as the principal author and instead take up the part of my fellow readers to sing the praises of what @Barbaria1 has produced.
I had planned to write a short, poignant description of the girls’ terror on the night before their execution. I suppose it would be workmanlike enough, with thick descriptions and a touch of the maudlin. Surely, my overly indulgent readers would have praised the effort. But I know it would have been just a filler to move the story along.
Therefore, when Barbara offered to jot down a few thoughts about her namesake’s last night on earth, I jumped at the offer (as I pretty much jump at any offer from the lovely and talented – did I mention, sexy? - Barb). Then I told her that it would be she and Amanda together and how they would be restrained. Still, she agreed. However, I had no idea that she would produce such an amazing creation!
I shall also eschew my trademark - quote, and comment format as being beneath the respect this entry deserves. I only briefly mention that, in the unexpected sympathy for Amanda and Barb’s rare admission of the flaw of complaining too much, Barbara gives us a rare and too brief glimpse into her true humanity.
With humor and pathos, with deep feeling and light-hearted self-criticism, with lively, spot-on dialogue, with a deep understanding of the two characters as developed over the Trilogy’s gargantuan course, Barbara has created a masterpiece.
In hindsight, it is clear that the story needed a peak of rhetoric and drama to end the lead up to the Friday Executions. The many threads in this story had woven such a complex tapestry of character and emotion that it seemed a daunting task to find the one soaring post to end the waiting. Barbara did it!
Thank you so much, Barb, for making an outstanding and irreplaceable contribution to my humble work!
“Okay, Barb. Hugs!”
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Yeah, well what did you expect?
Seriously, thank you for giving me the opportunity. With a wide open set up like that I could have easily driven one of Tree’s cars through it without mishap
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Let's not exaggerate too much!
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Seratus Lima Puluh Tiga – 7 Hours
Cell, Death Row, Changi Prison, Friday, April 12, 2019, Early Morning
Amanda had no way of knowing the time, but it felt like the morning wasn’t far away. She had not slept more than a few minutes all night as the painful position, the sweaty hood, and the horror of her impending death had banished any real sleep. As she shifted her feet to try to relieve the cramps, she felt her now cold urine squish between her toes.
She now had accepted that her death was coming. Barbara had said so, and she must be right. Amanda was so thankful that, if she had to die, she could spend her last night in the same cell as her hero. Barbara was so strong and brave, and Amanda drew on that to calm her terrors. They would go to their executions together. That also strengthened the girl.
Barbara’s speech about how they had to be brave and not show fear or weakness had been so inspiring. Barbara used her feisty rough exterior to keep emotions at a distance. But, inside, she was such a thoughtful, profound, and caring person. How Amanda wished she’d had the time to become more like her! Amanda could not believe that Barb hadn’t been a cheerleader.
Amanda felt guilty that she had cried so much and chattered on and on until she’d annoyed Barb. It was just that she was only nineteen, and her life was over! It was so cruel All her dreams were blown away. But she knew she should have been braver.
It seemed sad that Barbara wouldn’t admit her love for her unless nagged. She knew that she did. But it seemed not to be her way to reveal her feelings. The way Barb had stimulated Amanda yesterday was magical. The girl had never imagined that she could feel so warm and loved, even as those horrible men watched. Amanda knew she was inexperienced and naive, but if that wasn’t love, what was?
Amanda thought back to all the classic movies she’d watched when enraptured lovers went to their deaths together, holding hands, bravely and so sadly that she used to cry and sob watching. She and Barb would be like that. She prayed they could hold hands on the way to the gallows. Tears began rolling down her cheeks as she thought to one of her very favorite lines from one of her very favorite movies: “It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known.”
Yes! She thought. That’s how a cheerleader should die!
Cell, Death Row, Changi Prison, Friday, April 12, 2019, Early Morning
Amanda had no way of knowing the time, but it felt like the morning wasn’t far away. She had not slept more than a few minutes all night as the painful position, the sweaty hood, and the horror of her impending death had banished any real sleep. As she shifted her feet to try to relieve the cramps, she felt her now cold urine squish between her toes.
She now had accepted that her death was coming. Barbara had said so, and she must be right. Amanda was so thankful that, if she had to die, she could spend her last night in the same cell as her hero. Barbara was so strong and brave, and Amanda drew on that to calm her terrors. They would go to their executions together. That also strengthened the girl.
Barbara’s speech about how they had to be brave and not show fear or weakness had been so inspiring. Barbara used her feisty rough exterior to keep emotions at a distance. But, inside, she was such a thoughtful, profound, and caring person. How Amanda wished she’d had the time to become more like her! Amanda could not believe that Barb hadn’t been a cheerleader.
Amanda felt guilty that she had cried so much and chattered on and on until she’d annoyed Barb. It was just that she was only nineteen, and her life was over! It was so cruel All her dreams were blown away. But she knew she should have been braver.
It seemed sad that Barbara wouldn’t admit her love for her unless nagged. She knew that she did. But it seemed not to be her way to reveal her feelings. The way Barb had stimulated Amanda yesterday was magical. The girl had never imagined that she could feel so warm and loved, even as those horrible men watched. Amanda knew she was inexperienced and naive, but if that wasn’t love, what was?
Amanda thought back to all the classic movies she’d watched when enraptured lovers went to their deaths together, holding hands, bravely and so sadly that she used to cry and sob watching. She and Barb would be like that. She prayed they could hold hands on the way to the gallows. Tears began rolling down her cheeks as she thought to one of her very favorite lines from one of her very favorite movies: “It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known.”
Yes! She thought. That’s how a cheerleader should die!
old slave
FELIS RESPICIENS
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
I could say much more ... but will limit myself to "Hodges is a cad, good and proper ..."
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
A simply wonderful interlude! I thought for a millisecond that Barb was about to show some empathy, maybe even sympathy, but thankfully order was soon resumed! And at least the young, nubile and tragic Amanda seems to found true love ... at least inside her own mind!
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
I always imagined that I knew how this wpnderful epic would end. Barb and Amanda would live, right? And Jeffrey would somehow get them off, even if purely by chance, and redeem himself in the process, right?
... but, PrPr weaves such a magnificent maze, that I now fear that I could be oh so wrong on all counts!
This is so damn good!