CondemnedKat
Magistrate
A short story of a cruel executioner putting a mother and daughter to death. I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing it.
I walked to the cell door, another day in the life of an executioner was beginning. I relished what was instore, enjoyed every aspect of my job.
While other executioners tried to carry out the sentence in quick dignity, I enjoyed taking my time. The condemned had of course been sentenced to die and I was tasked with carrying out that order. In my view the sentence shouldn’t be quick and painless, it should be filled with terror, despair, humiliation and pain, especially as most executions were now carried out in public. While entertaining the crowds it was important to show them what the state would do if they stepped out of line.
My name is Samantha Clarke, and I was one of the first intake of female executioners the state had ever employed. Filling quotas on equality meant even the bringer of doom could be female.
While the normal uniform for executioners was leather pants and boots with a bare torso and optional hood or mask the female staff were allowed a little bit of flexibility in their attire. I decided however not to wear the regulation officers’ blouse, opting to be topless like the men.
It’s expected that executioners keep their bodies in good shape, for the men this usually means bulging muscles but for me a strict cardio gym routine and weight training kept my thirty-year-old body in tip top condition.
I found my topless state a boon, when condemned first looked at me their eyes always gravitated to my breasts. I felt my nakedness made a statement. I was strong, powerful and confident and didn’t need clothes to make my power over them obvious.
A guard opened the cell door, and I wasted no time in approaching the prisoner. A middle-aged woman of about 5’2 in height. She gasped as I entered the room.
Prisoners were never told the timing of their executions, waiting weeks or sometimes months in small cells until an executioner was assigned to their case. Any appeals would take place without the condemned present and often they never found the result of these hopeless appeals until myself or my colleagues entered their cell.
“Joanne Smith,” I began as I walked towards the shivering woman who stood up quietly in front of me, “please remove your clothing”.
The compliant housewife unzipped the orange boiler suit and wriggled free, pausing before pulling down the prison issue underwear. Her large droopy tits bouncing free and hanging over her round tummy.
I looked her dumpy body up and down before continuing “I have the duty to inform you that all appeals have been unsuccessful.” her entire body sagged as I continued.
“Your execution by hanging will take place this morning, I’ll be overseeing the punishment.”
Her lip quivered, “Please… my, my daughter?” she mumbled.
“No questions, I’m not here to appease or answer you, I’m here to carry out my job.” I snapped at her.
“Now often during hangings the prisoners will defecate, it’s unpleasant for all concerned, I’d recommend now that you try to clear your bowels.” I said, pointing to the steel prison toilet bowl.
Joanne looked at the bowl, then at me. “Don’t worry I can wait.” I said.
She sat on the bowl, her face a beetroot red and soon she’d complied with my request, wiping her arsehole with the rough prison toilet paper the room filled with her stench.
She stood up again and I walked to her, grabbing her arms and pulling them roughly behind her back. Compliantly she stood waiting as I tied a rope around her wrists.
I tickled my nails over her shoulders. A sensation that all women enjoyed though I knew this would feel like electric shocks buzzing across the woman’s skin.
I told the guards to bring the condemned to the arena gallows at the appointed time before walking from the cell.
As I walked, I pulled my long raven hair from my shoulders exposing the giant tattoo that stretched from my neck to my ass. The inked artwork showed a female Viking warrior holding a battle axe in one hand while gripped a severed head by the hair in her other.
The tattoo had taken weeks of pain to get it just right, but I loved how it looked, how the condemned would look at it as I walked from them, knowing that a truly wicked woman was going to put them to death.
I’d briefly read the notes of the case this morning. Mother and Daughter Joanne and Claire Smith had been found guilty of murdering Joanne’s husband. Their defence was that he was abusive to both women however when the amount of money the woman would receive from life insurance policies became clear it took the jury no time in sentencing them to the maximum.
Claire was only seventeen at the time and although she was tried as an adult the execution was only to be carried out when she was eighteen. I had smiled as I realised today was her birthday, they didn’t waste any time.
I clicked my heels as I walked down the stone corridor to the next door, the cell already opened, the teenage girl curled up in a grey prison blanket fast asleep.
Grinning I bend over the girl, my black hair falling over her as I shook her shoulder, “Wake up birthday girl!” I said softly.
The blonde teen grumbled in her sleep, hugging the blanket tightly around her body.
I’d had enough, suddenly I screamed, “Get on your fucking feet NOW!”.
The girl jumped, her heart thumping she quickly surveyed the surroundings before staggering to her feet. She’d been in the prison system long enough to know how quickly she should obey an order.
I stepped back and looked into her bright blue frightened eyes.
“In case you aren’t aware, I’m an executioner”, I held my hands on my hips as I talked. “All appeals have failed, and you will be hanged alongside your Mother this morning.”
She looked terrified, her eyes filling with tears, “But, but, my lawyer, they said I’d get off…”
“Enough, the time for questions is over, in the eyes of the state you are already dead.” I cut her off.
I made the tall girl strip off her bra and panties, and I went through my usual explanation about how she should use the toilet. She looked at the bowl and shook her head.
Fine, if she wanted to shit herself I wasn’t the one cleaning it up.
“So I believe it’s a special day for you today Birthday Girl.” I smirked. “Finally, she becomes an adult, sadly I don’t think you’ll get birthday drinks tonight to celebrate.”
The guards laughed as I walked behind her. Taking her hands, I bound them quickly behind her back and tightened the knot, same as for her mother.
Next, I took her long flowing blonde hair, stroking the silky strands, I pulled it behind her into a simple ponytail before tying it with a little rubber band. Her mother’s short bob haircut wouldn’t matter but I didn’t like hair to get tangled in the noose during execution.
I turned her around and pushed her against the cold stone wall of the dank cell. Putting one hand to her throat I caressed my free hand down her body. Her breasts warm and responsive to my touch, her tummy muscles tight. This girl looked after herself much more than her mum.
She was tall too, probably equal to my 5’9” but my heels let me rise above her.
Finally, I ran my long fingers over her pussy, tugging the hairs gently. I looked into her eyes wickedly. “Only an adult today, I bet she’d never even had a cock in here.” I mocked as the guards giggled.
I twisted two fingers into her before curling them upwards to her g-spot. The girl reacted immediately, squirming and wriggling as I stimulated her.
“Never even had a cock,” I repeated. “What a shame, if I’d arrived a bit earlier, I could have brought my strap-on!”
I snapped my fingers from her and turned away, stroking my hair in front of me to show my trademark tattoo.
“To the arena same time as the Mother!” I barked at the guards before walking back to my dressing room.
I stood and observed myself in the full-length mirror. What a wicked look bitch I’d become. The tight leather pants I worse showed off my long muscular legs and the high heeled patent leather boots laced up to my knees showed I meant business.
I put a long steel hunting knife on my belt.
I looked in the mirror, checking my contact lenses. Although my eyes were dark brown, I wore lenses to change the Iris completely black. It had an incredibly unsettling effect, especially on the condemned as my jet-black eyes would stare right into their souls.
Looking over my naked chest I flexed my muscles before picking up an oil bottle. I rubbed a little of the oil on my chest, back and tummy and down my arms. The oil would have a slight glistening effect when I was in sunlight. I loved to show off my bronzed olive skin to the crowd.
I topped up my bright red lip gloss, blowing an imaginary kiss at the mirror.
I flicked and waved my black hair, casting it down my back, I was ready.
Walking to the arena I could feel my excitement rising. I couldn’t help smiling, grinning to myself as I approached the door.
Bounding up the wooden steps to the platform I noticed that the young girl was standing beside her naked mum, resting her head on her mother’s shoulder as both wept.
I snapped at the guards to separate them, and quickly a guard grabbed the mother’s hair, dragging her several feet away from her distraught daughter.
The morning sun shone directly on the scaffold as I approached the front of the stage. I threw both hands in the air as the crowd erupted in cheers and applauds. I bowed low in front of my audience, my hair flicking over my face, I straightened up again and flicked my raven locks behind my back.
I smiled as I turned to both women, the crowd hushed to hear my words.
“Joanne and Claire Smith,” I began “You have been found guilty of first-degree murder and sentenced to be hanged from the neck until you are both dead.”
Both women’s faces crumbled into tears as they stood, listening. Naked and quaking on the rough wooden boards of the scaffold.
“It is my duty and pleasure as state appointed executioner to carry out that sentence this morning in the view of all these witnesses. I have selected a no-drop hanging as the method of your execution.”
The crowd roared as they heard no-drop, of the three methods a no-drop hanging was the slowest and most agonising, it was also the best to watch.
Pressing a button on a control panel I lowered both nooses until they were level with each of the women’s breasts.
I walked up to Joanne first and put the noose around her throat, tightening the hemp knot at the side of her head. As I did this, I whispered to her “Say hello to the Devil from me.” My black eyes staring intently at her as I said this.
I move to Claire, her head bowed with sobbing. I grabbed her ponytail, pulled back her head and got the rough rope over her head, pulling her hair through it I tightened the noose.
I looked deep at the young girl. Such a waste to destroy her. I leant forward and cheers of the crowd I kissed the girl on her lips. Her eyes widened in shock for a moment. At exactly the same moment I put the foot of my boot on her toes and pressed down hard. When I pulled away her pale lips were stained bright red with my lip gloss.
The crowd hushed again as I took the controls for the pulley and pressed lightly, their necks taking tension on the rough ropes, the girls feet stretched to tiptoe. I stopped the winch as mother and daughter, shoulder to shoulder stretched their bodies, trying to gasp breaths while stretching their feet.
The crowd hissed as slowly I stepped back from the terrified, stretched women and took out my long hunting knife.
I played the blade in my hand, holding the point to a finger, as I slowly looked over the crowd. All eyes on me now. They knew what was coming.
First, I walked up to Joanne, and with a long, slow stroke I sliced the blade down the woman’s chest, between her droopy tits and over the curve of her belly, stopping just about her clit.
The screams of the tortured mum were muffled by the rope, tightening around her neck as her body involuntarily contracted.
The same treatment was given to Claire, but more blood dripped down the girl’s pussy and legs, I’d obviously pushed a little too deep. She twisted and yanked her body, trying to pull away from the sharp blade.
When I’d finished, I rubbed the blade down Joanne’s thighs, cleaning off her daughter’s blood before putting it back on my belt.
The crowd cheered again as I took the controls again and this time both women were raised about another inch.
I loved this point, the very tips of their toes still just brushing the rough wooden boards. Both women’s feet started to flay and kick wildly, I looked down to see Claire rip one of her toenails completely off in the panic to try and get a foothold.
It was pointless, the rope now the only thing holding them, I pressed the button again and both women raised a few more inches.
I watched from the side of the gallows as both women struggled wildly. Claire’s athletic legs kicking wildly. Their bodies so close that at times Claire kicked her mother’s ass with force.
Joanne pedalled her legs as if she was on a bike, twisting and turning her torso. Her belly and floppy tits bouncing. I watched the woman, I’d an idea what was coming.
Most men on the noose have involuntary orgasms, their cocks spurting long trails of semen as they buck their hips wildly. It’s rarer to see in women but happens from time to time and I knew it was coming now.
The chunky woman’s entire body seemed to shake uncontrollably, she twisted and turned beside her still thrashing daughter. Suddenly and violently, she arched her back, her legs stretching, toes curling.
Almost simultaneously Joanne’s bladder finally burst, sending a thick hot yellow trail of urine across the scaffold. I stepped up and twisted her body, forcing the urine to splash onto her daughter's broken body. The piss mixing with the blood on her tummy as it splashed onto the boards.
The crowd cheered and laughed as I noticed a tiny trail of pee dripping down the girls long slender legs. Her mother’s body almost still now but Claire’s strength and struggle seemed far from over.
I bowed once more to my audience and took my leave. Returning to my dressing room I unlaced my big boots and struggled out of my leather pants.
Wrapping a silk robe around my shoulders I settled down on my office chair and turned on my computer, watching the live feet from the arena, I reached down to a drawer and pulled out a small pink vibrator.
I settled back, putting my bare feet on the edge of the desk I started the vibe as I watched. Joanne’s feet pointing to the floor, her body lifeless. Claire still kicking from time to time, still a struggle.
As I felt my orgasm build, I wondered how long it took before Claire’s brain would die. How long she’d be aware of the horrible ordeal she was experiencing? How long she’d know her mother’s body dangled against her side? How long she’d feel the humiliation, panic and torturous pain she was experiencing?
My toes curled as I orgasmed hard, arching myself against the office chair. I turned off the vibe and put it away. Soon I’d be required to confirm death of these two, then this afternoon I had a lethal injection of an elderly man, how boring I thought. I’d just have time now to go to the executioner gym before lunch. Damn I though, I really hate ‘leg day’.
I walked to the cell door, another day in the life of an executioner was beginning. I relished what was instore, enjoyed every aspect of my job.
While other executioners tried to carry out the sentence in quick dignity, I enjoyed taking my time. The condemned had of course been sentenced to die and I was tasked with carrying out that order. In my view the sentence shouldn’t be quick and painless, it should be filled with terror, despair, humiliation and pain, especially as most executions were now carried out in public. While entertaining the crowds it was important to show them what the state would do if they stepped out of line.
My name is Samantha Clarke, and I was one of the first intake of female executioners the state had ever employed. Filling quotas on equality meant even the bringer of doom could be female.
While the normal uniform for executioners was leather pants and boots with a bare torso and optional hood or mask the female staff were allowed a little bit of flexibility in their attire. I decided however not to wear the regulation officers’ blouse, opting to be topless like the men.
It’s expected that executioners keep their bodies in good shape, for the men this usually means bulging muscles but for me a strict cardio gym routine and weight training kept my thirty-year-old body in tip top condition.
I found my topless state a boon, when condemned first looked at me their eyes always gravitated to my breasts. I felt my nakedness made a statement. I was strong, powerful and confident and didn’t need clothes to make my power over them obvious.
A guard opened the cell door, and I wasted no time in approaching the prisoner. A middle-aged woman of about 5’2 in height. She gasped as I entered the room.
Prisoners were never told the timing of their executions, waiting weeks or sometimes months in small cells until an executioner was assigned to their case. Any appeals would take place without the condemned present and often they never found the result of these hopeless appeals until myself or my colleagues entered their cell.
“Joanne Smith,” I began as I walked towards the shivering woman who stood up quietly in front of me, “please remove your clothing”.
The compliant housewife unzipped the orange boiler suit and wriggled free, pausing before pulling down the prison issue underwear. Her large droopy tits bouncing free and hanging over her round tummy.
I looked her dumpy body up and down before continuing “I have the duty to inform you that all appeals have been unsuccessful.” her entire body sagged as I continued.
“Your execution by hanging will take place this morning, I’ll be overseeing the punishment.”
Her lip quivered, “Please… my, my daughter?” she mumbled.
“No questions, I’m not here to appease or answer you, I’m here to carry out my job.” I snapped at her.
“Now often during hangings the prisoners will defecate, it’s unpleasant for all concerned, I’d recommend now that you try to clear your bowels.” I said, pointing to the steel prison toilet bowl.
Joanne looked at the bowl, then at me. “Don’t worry I can wait.” I said.
She sat on the bowl, her face a beetroot red and soon she’d complied with my request, wiping her arsehole with the rough prison toilet paper the room filled with her stench.
She stood up again and I walked to her, grabbing her arms and pulling them roughly behind her back. Compliantly she stood waiting as I tied a rope around her wrists.
I tickled my nails over her shoulders. A sensation that all women enjoyed though I knew this would feel like electric shocks buzzing across the woman’s skin.
I told the guards to bring the condemned to the arena gallows at the appointed time before walking from the cell.
As I walked, I pulled my long raven hair from my shoulders exposing the giant tattoo that stretched from my neck to my ass. The inked artwork showed a female Viking warrior holding a battle axe in one hand while gripped a severed head by the hair in her other.
The tattoo had taken weeks of pain to get it just right, but I loved how it looked, how the condemned would look at it as I walked from them, knowing that a truly wicked woman was going to put them to death.
I’d briefly read the notes of the case this morning. Mother and Daughter Joanne and Claire Smith had been found guilty of murdering Joanne’s husband. Their defence was that he was abusive to both women however when the amount of money the woman would receive from life insurance policies became clear it took the jury no time in sentencing them to the maximum.
Claire was only seventeen at the time and although she was tried as an adult the execution was only to be carried out when she was eighteen. I had smiled as I realised today was her birthday, they didn’t waste any time.
I clicked my heels as I walked down the stone corridor to the next door, the cell already opened, the teenage girl curled up in a grey prison blanket fast asleep.
Grinning I bend over the girl, my black hair falling over her as I shook her shoulder, “Wake up birthday girl!” I said softly.
The blonde teen grumbled in her sleep, hugging the blanket tightly around her body.
I’d had enough, suddenly I screamed, “Get on your fucking feet NOW!”.
The girl jumped, her heart thumping she quickly surveyed the surroundings before staggering to her feet. She’d been in the prison system long enough to know how quickly she should obey an order.
I stepped back and looked into her bright blue frightened eyes.
“In case you aren’t aware, I’m an executioner”, I held my hands on my hips as I talked. “All appeals have failed, and you will be hanged alongside your Mother this morning.”
She looked terrified, her eyes filling with tears, “But, but, my lawyer, they said I’d get off…”
“Enough, the time for questions is over, in the eyes of the state you are already dead.” I cut her off.
I made the tall girl strip off her bra and panties, and I went through my usual explanation about how she should use the toilet. She looked at the bowl and shook her head.
Fine, if she wanted to shit herself I wasn’t the one cleaning it up.
“So I believe it’s a special day for you today Birthday Girl.” I smirked. “Finally, she becomes an adult, sadly I don’t think you’ll get birthday drinks tonight to celebrate.”
The guards laughed as I walked behind her. Taking her hands, I bound them quickly behind her back and tightened the knot, same as for her mother.
Next, I took her long flowing blonde hair, stroking the silky strands, I pulled it behind her into a simple ponytail before tying it with a little rubber band. Her mother’s short bob haircut wouldn’t matter but I didn’t like hair to get tangled in the noose during execution.
I turned her around and pushed her against the cold stone wall of the dank cell. Putting one hand to her throat I caressed my free hand down her body. Her breasts warm and responsive to my touch, her tummy muscles tight. This girl looked after herself much more than her mum.
She was tall too, probably equal to my 5’9” but my heels let me rise above her.
Finally, I ran my long fingers over her pussy, tugging the hairs gently. I looked into her eyes wickedly. “Only an adult today, I bet she’d never even had a cock in here.” I mocked as the guards giggled.
I twisted two fingers into her before curling them upwards to her g-spot. The girl reacted immediately, squirming and wriggling as I stimulated her.
“Never even had a cock,” I repeated. “What a shame, if I’d arrived a bit earlier, I could have brought my strap-on!”
I snapped my fingers from her and turned away, stroking my hair in front of me to show my trademark tattoo.
“To the arena same time as the Mother!” I barked at the guards before walking back to my dressing room.
I stood and observed myself in the full-length mirror. What a wicked look bitch I’d become. The tight leather pants I worse showed off my long muscular legs and the high heeled patent leather boots laced up to my knees showed I meant business.
I put a long steel hunting knife on my belt.
I looked in the mirror, checking my contact lenses. Although my eyes were dark brown, I wore lenses to change the Iris completely black. It had an incredibly unsettling effect, especially on the condemned as my jet-black eyes would stare right into their souls.
Looking over my naked chest I flexed my muscles before picking up an oil bottle. I rubbed a little of the oil on my chest, back and tummy and down my arms. The oil would have a slight glistening effect when I was in sunlight. I loved to show off my bronzed olive skin to the crowd.
I topped up my bright red lip gloss, blowing an imaginary kiss at the mirror.
I flicked and waved my black hair, casting it down my back, I was ready.
Walking to the arena I could feel my excitement rising. I couldn’t help smiling, grinning to myself as I approached the door.
Bounding up the wooden steps to the platform I noticed that the young girl was standing beside her naked mum, resting her head on her mother’s shoulder as both wept.
I snapped at the guards to separate them, and quickly a guard grabbed the mother’s hair, dragging her several feet away from her distraught daughter.
The morning sun shone directly on the scaffold as I approached the front of the stage. I threw both hands in the air as the crowd erupted in cheers and applauds. I bowed low in front of my audience, my hair flicking over my face, I straightened up again and flicked my raven locks behind my back.
I smiled as I turned to both women, the crowd hushed to hear my words.
“Joanne and Claire Smith,” I began “You have been found guilty of first-degree murder and sentenced to be hanged from the neck until you are both dead.”
Both women’s faces crumbled into tears as they stood, listening. Naked and quaking on the rough wooden boards of the scaffold.
“It is my duty and pleasure as state appointed executioner to carry out that sentence this morning in the view of all these witnesses. I have selected a no-drop hanging as the method of your execution.”
The crowd roared as they heard no-drop, of the three methods a no-drop hanging was the slowest and most agonising, it was also the best to watch.
Pressing a button on a control panel I lowered both nooses until they were level with each of the women’s breasts.
I walked up to Joanne first and put the noose around her throat, tightening the hemp knot at the side of her head. As I did this, I whispered to her “Say hello to the Devil from me.” My black eyes staring intently at her as I said this.
I move to Claire, her head bowed with sobbing. I grabbed her ponytail, pulled back her head and got the rough rope over her head, pulling her hair through it I tightened the noose.
I looked deep at the young girl. Such a waste to destroy her. I leant forward and cheers of the crowd I kissed the girl on her lips. Her eyes widened in shock for a moment. At exactly the same moment I put the foot of my boot on her toes and pressed down hard. When I pulled away her pale lips were stained bright red with my lip gloss.
The crowd hushed again as I took the controls for the pulley and pressed lightly, their necks taking tension on the rough ropes, the girls feet stretched to tiptoe. I stopped the winch as mother and daughter, shoulder to shoulder stretched their bodies, trying to gasp breaths while stretching their feet.
The crowd hissed as slowly I stepped back from the terrified, stretched women and took out my long hunting knife.
I played the blade in my hand, holding the point to a finger, as I slowly looked over the crowd. All eyes on me now. They knew what was coming.
First, I walked up to Joanne, and with a long, slow stroke I sliced the blade down the woman’s chest, between her droopy tits and over the curve of her belly, stopping just about her clit.
The screams of the tortured mum were muffled by the rope, tightening around her neck as her body involuntarily contracted.
The same treatment was given to Claire, but more blood dripped down the girl’s pussy and legs, I’d obviously pushed a little too deep. She twisted and yanked her body, trying to pull away from the sharp blade.
When I’d finished, I rubbed the blade down Joanne’s thighs, cleaning off her daughter’s blood before putting it back on my belt.
The crowd cheered again as I took the controls again and this time both women were raised about another inch.
I loved this point, the very tips of their toes still just brushing the rough wooden boards. Both women’s feet started to flay and kick wildly, I looked down to see Claire rip one of her toenails completely off in the panic to try and get a foothold.
It was pointless, the rope now the only thing holding them, I pressed the button again and both women raised a few more inches.
I watched from the side of the gallows as both women struggled wildly. Claire’s athletic legs kicking wildly. Their bodies so close that at times Claire kicked her mother’s ass with force.
Joanne pedalled her legs as if she was on a bike, twisting and turning her torso. Her belly and floppy tits bouncing. I watched the woman, I’d an idea what was coming.
Most men on the noose have involuntary orgasms, their cocks spurting long trails of semen as they buck their hips wildly. It’s rarer to see in women but happens from time to time and I knew it was coming now.
The chunky woman’s entire body seemed to shake uncontrollably, she twisted and turned beside her still thrashing daughter. Suddenly and violently, she arched her back, her legs stretching, toes curling.
Almost simultaneously Joanne’s bladder finally burst, sending a thick hot yellow trail of urine across the scaffold. I stepped up and twisted her body, forcing the urine to splash onto her daughter's broken body. The piss mixing with the blood on her tummy as it splashed onto the boards.
The crowd cheered and laughed as I noticed a tiny trail of pee dripping down the girls long slender legs. Her mother’s body almost still now but Claire’s strength and struggle seemed far from over.
I bowed once more to my audience and took my leave. Returning to my dressing room I unlaced my big boots and struggled out of my leather pants.
Wrapping a silk robe around my shoulders I settled down on my office chair and turned on my computer, watching the live feet from the arena, I reached down to a drawer and pulled out a small pink vibrator.
I settled back, putting my bare feet on the edge of the desk I started the vibe as I watched. Joanne’s feet pointing to the floor, her body lifeless. Claire still kicking from time to time, still a struggle.
As I felt my orgasm build, I wondered how long it took before Claire’s brain would die. How long she’d be aware of the horrible ordeal she was experiencing? How long she’d know her mother’s body dangled against her side? How long she’d feel the humiliation, panic and torturous pain she was experiencing?
My toes curled as I orgasmed hard, arching myself against the office chair. I turned off the vibe and put it away. Soon I’d be required to confirm death of these two, then this afternoon I had a lethal injection of an elderly man, how boring I thought. I’d just have time now to go to the executioner gym before lunch. Damn I though, I really hate ‘leg day’.
