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A tall and nice looking man wearing a fifty dollar suit, Mr. King cut a strong and striking appearance. The condemned woman could tell the man had a professional attitude about himself, even as a hangman.



“Pleased to meet you Miss Blue, even under these circumstances. I know you are under a lot of stress with what you are going through but let me assure you that I am here to help you through this. I've done this before.”



“Thank you Mr. King. I do appreciate your service as I know your reputation is one of high regard. If you please, I will do everything you ask. I don’t want to act the fool tomorrow. Please tell me what you want me to do and what I should expect,” the woman replied.



“Just follow my directions tomorrow. Can I say you are of medium height and weight?”



“Well sir, I am not too tall but not too short either. I guess you figure my weight and height by sight, right? You want me to strip so you can really see me,” she said, winking to the man while surrendering a quaint and sexy smile as she raised her eyebrows.



“You are funny young woman Miss Blue,” the hangman responded. “To be truthful, yes, I would like to eye your nude body,” as he flashed a responding smile and directed glance toward the woman. The Hangman would have loved the pleasure of not only looking at the nude body of the woman but would have given more than a dime to fuck the lady. He wasn't happy that he had to send such a beautiful female to her death.



“Well, I am sure glad that I have a real man that is going to execute me, not some old pervert that just likes hanging people,” she said.



The hangman stood, walked over to the woman, bent down and whispered “if you wish, I can make sure you can enjoy the time you are on the rope, you know what I mean? You know what I mean. And if you need explaining, I can.”



Without hesitation, the woman responded in kind, “yes, I know what you mean and yes, please let me come during my hanging. I want to experience a total satisfaction orgasm on that gallows. I want the earth to move. Maybe I'll stroke out before my brain starts wanting some air. Please help me do this Sir.”



The whispering continued as neither the woman or her hangman wanted anyone to over hear the conversation. A couple of deputies were in the front jail area, but not presently in ear shot.



“I will adjust the rope just enough for you to come while you hang. I'll make you tingle from your toes to your brain. You'll fight the rope, but that's not what you will really be doing. I'll rock your would in your last seconds on earth. I will not let the drop break our neck. You will be wearing a hood and the crowd will not notice your excitement. Girl, it’s your responsibility to get yourself in a sexual frame of mind, that is, work yourself up just before you hang. With men you can tell the ones having erections. With the female, nobody will know but you and me. The way it works is that with a lack of air during your time on the rope, your orgasm will intensify and I promise you will die in a heighten state of sexual bliss.”



“The Sheriff did me last night in this cell. It was intense. Will this be better?”



“The Sheriff did you did he? I know, he told me. He told me you were very sexual and that you used sex to get bad things off your mind. Well, it will be something you never experienced, ever. You will be happy when you die my girl.” The Hangman lied. She would be happy for the time her brain did't know it was dying, but once it fought for the air that would never come, her brain would send out the most horrible of horribles, strangulation. She would die a death that nobody would want, ever.



“I want to go out going off. Make that happen for me Mr. King.”



“It’s a done deal,” the hangman said. “When we meet tomorrow just let me do my business and you will do fine. Don’t worry, you won’t feel any pain.” The hangman left the cell and would keep his appointment with the woman tomorrow at noon in the lot next to the jail. He would keep his secret. Miss Blue would die a painful death on the rope.



Mrs. Wright, the town’s best dress maker was the next to see Miss Blue.



“Tell me what you have for me,” Miss Blue asked the middle aged woman.



“How about a nice dress with all the fixings,” she responded. “That included a nice petty skirt and a pair of white flat slippers.”



“Matching undergarments included?” Miss Blue wanted to look the part tomorrow.



“Yes, all white, not to miss match your dress. I will be here tomorrow at ten in the morning to help you dress, fix your hair, and add any make up at your pleasure. The hangman stopped me as he was going out and said something about making a quick visit tomorrow with you just before ten. He said you would approve.”



“Good,” the Miss Blue said. “Did he say anything else to you?”



“Yes, he told me to fix you up nicely as you are the most heavenly creature that he will ever hang. I think he is smitten with you. He really likes you, I could tell.”



“I like him Mrs. Wright. He is a gentleman, even if he is going to hang me tomorrow. Yes, I like him very much.”



With that Miss Blue had one last visitor, that being the mortician and owner of Green’s Funeral Parlor the only one in Wolf City. Mr. Green, a balding man of fifty or so years, was a popular man in the town, and was well respected by everyone in the county.



“Sorry to have to meet you today, but I need your final directions Miss Blue. Your parents have turned everything over to you as you are of age. Tell me what want and I will do my best to follow your wishes,” the mortician stated.



“I will leave everything in your hands Mr. Green. I want no funeral. I do wish to be taken care of, you know, embalmed and such. I understand once Doctor Miller pronounces me dead he will turn my body over to you. As I say, I want to be embalmed, and then displayed in your finest viewing room for two days. After that, bury me in Memorial Park. Mrs. Wright will do my dressing and makeup for the presentation. She knows what I want. As for you Mr. Green, please protect my corpse. Don’t let some pervert mess with me. I trust that you will see to that.”



“Sure Miss Blue. I will have complete security for you day and night through your burial. You need not worry.”



“And one other thing Mr. Green. If you want, you can take as many photographs of me as you wish, of my corpse after my death. If you take them of my naked body, those are for your private collection only. I was told by a friend that you do take photographs of your subjects. I will be one of your subjects is that so Mr. Green?



“Yes, you are going to be one of my subjects. I will do as you wish. I promise not to allow the photographs to surface in the community. They will be for my viewing only. Thank you for allowing this Miss Blue.”



“You are welcome Mr. Green. You will see that I have a very nice body. Please take care of my body, please. I will see you tomorrow. That is you will see me tomorrow, me as in cadaver that is. I won’t be seeing anyone after noon tomorrow.”



As Mr. Green left, Miss Blue had wanted to tell Mr. Green that if he so desired, he could have his way with her corpse if he wanted. She figured that he needed no invitation, that Mr. Green did what he wanted with “his” subjects, invitation or no invitation. She put a smile on her face with that thought.



Kat dreamed of another visit on the last night of her life but it didn’t come. She had a light supper, dressed for bed, and closed her eyes once she lay down on the old bed. It didn’t take but a few minutes and the young woman was taking her last nights’ sleep. The early morning light come through the bared window of the cell and by half past six she was again awake, thinking about the situation she was in and how to prepare for it.



“Good morning Miss Blue,” the Sheriff said as he looked through the cell bars. “Sorry about things. What can I get for your breakfast?”



“Your call Sheriff. I am not particularly hungry. I would like some milk to drink.”



“Good, I’ll just put some bacon and toast and jelly and you can eat it if you want. Milk on the way.”



“Thanks Sheriff. Are you going to escort me to the gallows? I need someone strong to help me get up on that structure. It does scare me.”



“Yes, I will. I talked with Mr. King and he said he wanted me to escort you. He told me to help you. I will be at your service”



“No. I will be thinking about our night together today while I am up on that scaffold. That is a fact Sheriff. You are a very nice man and I think about you.”



“Well, thank you Kat. You are a fantastic woman if you hadn’t already figured that out. I truly wish you didn’t have to come to an end today. I think we could have had something going.”



“Well, let me go, and I won’t tell,” the woman said, smiling.



“I am truly sorry,” the man said as he turned and went to retrieve the breakfast.



After eating Mrs. Wright came to help Miss Blue dress.



“Let me fill you in Kat. I don’t want to upset you but I have to tell you that when you are hung you might have an accident and mess yourself. If you want I can give you panties that have a rubber lining that could catch anything that might appear. Do you want to wear them?”



“No, I decided that if it happens it happens,” the young woman replied.



With that the prisoner dressed in her white dress. A well endowed but firm and young woman, she was going to go bra less and her silk panties fit perfectly. She was going to look stunning today nobody was going to stand in her way. With her blond hair flowing freely, she asked that Mrs. Wright tie it into a pony tail that would be flipped to her right side immediately before being hooded and noosed. She told Mrs. Wright that she wanted to wear the matching white slipper but just before her mounting the gallows stairs she wanted to slip out of them and take the seven stairs barefoot She wanted to hang with her feet free of closure. She had pretty small feet and unblemished pink toes. The audience was in for a full show.



Dressed and ready, Kat looked into a mirror in her cell and brushed her hair, putting every strand in its proper place.



“I don’t know why they don’t like me,” she said Mrs. Wright.



Overhearing her comment, the Sheriff came close to the cell bars.



“You shot the most important man in the city. The railroad jobs feed half of the mouths of the city. They don’t like you for that, and plus, you are the most beautiful woman in town,” the Sheriff commented.



“Yes, Sheriff, you are right,” responded the woman. “I tried to kill the dreams of the people of the town.”



A deputy appeared in the jail hall and to the Sheriff that it was time and everything was ready. The Sheriff looked down at his watch, glanced up and nodded.



“Kat, its time. Ten minutes to noon.”



“I’m ready,” Kat agreed.



Miss Katherine Blue, with the Sheriff of Wolf City on her right arm, led by two deputies in front and one behind, walked out the jail door to be met by a crowd of three hundred men woman and children. They were silent. Turing to the right, they took a short walk down the jail porch that led to the lot next to the jail, which was filled with over another hundred witnesses with a large wooden structure located in the back third of the grass barren dirt ground. Miss Blue took a glance at the people in the audience, not trying to make any direct eye contact with any one particular. Looking up at the gallows, she saw one single rope hanging down from the cross beam. The rope sent tingles through her body, her heart began to beat faster, and almost at once womanhood began to moisten as her body began to get sexually turned on. She knew this would happen, as the hangman told her to center her being on erotic thoughts.



All these people are looking at me and I know the men would like to have me and the women are all jealous of my body. I am going to give them what they want.



Stopping at the first step leading up to the rope Miss Blue slipped one foot, then the other, out of her slippers. Looking down at her pretty toes, she felt her sexual urges tone up, just like the foreplay she would pleasure herself with when being done by a man. The Sheriff, noticed her perfect toes.



“Nice Kat. You have done yourself good. The pink toe polish is a nice touch.”

 

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“I know. I painted them for you to notice.”



One, two, three…..finally she stood on the floor of the gallows. Looking across, she saw the hangman. Mr. King winked at her and she responded by giving him a weak smile.



“Katherine Blue, having been found guilty of murder, you have been sentenced to be hanged. Do you have anything to say before sentence is carried out?” said the Sheriff.



Looking directly at the crowd beneath and out front of her, the condemned woman couldn’t respond. Again the Sheriff repeated the statement.



“No, let’s get on with it,” Kat finally responded. Looking back at the hangman, Kat made eyes with him again, then turned and faced front, giving herself to the executioner.



Whispering into her ear, the hangman’s comments seemed to calm the woman as he tied her hands behind her back, smugly.



“It will be over in a moment. Go into your special place and think your thoughts,” he said, as he took a white cloth hood and draped it over her blond head, letting it fall harmlessly on her shoulders. The breath of the woman became quite rapid as the hangman slipped the heavy hemp rope over her head, allowing the knot of the noose to fall on her left side. He tightened the noose, pulling it upward, making sure it was tight enough to allow for no excess room between rope and neck. She could fell the heavy rope around her neck. There was no slack in the rope. Standing on the trapdoor in her bare feet she quickly became excited along with a feeling of dread. Knowing that the crowd was seeing her, all exposed in this venerable situation, she could feel the moisture of her womanhood begin to drip between her legs and fall on her exposed toes. Her sexual excitement was extreme as her thoughts fixated her orgasm to come.



Without notice, the hangman pulled the gallows lever, releasing the trap door floor which she was standing on, allowing her body to rapidly descend the five foot drop, three feet short of the ground below her outstretched pink nailed toes.



Inside her head the woman felt a strange feeling of total exhilaration as her neck muscles were being constricted and squeezed by the rope around her neck, a rope that was shoving upward on her lower jaw. The rope didn’t break her neck vertebrae on the jerk when hemp was fully stretched. She came sexually just a moment or so after the extreme pressure of the rope bore down on her and the lack of oxygen didn’t faze her until a second or two later when she tried to grasp some air. Her sense of total ecstasy came to an abrupt halt when she realized she had taken her last breath and her brain began to burn and she began her final struggle into death.



Her toes stretching for the ground below, pointing and releasing, over and over, legs kicking at the knees, first upward then vertical, never reaching the desired destination. Her brain, denied oxygen, sent her into a deep and hellish hallucination. Her body slowed its movements into involuntary twitching, a foot here, a quiver of a toe and such. The young woman lost any control of her bladder and a light yellow fluid trickled down between her stretched out legs and dripped off her now motionless toes, pooling on the brown dirt directly below her hanging body



Final hallucinations overcame her as she hung limp on the rope, her hearts becoming shallow, almost gone. A small notice of blood appeared through the white cotton hood at the mouth as her tongue protruded between her ivory teeth, all hidden from the eyewitnesses. Her eyes with the busted blood vessels from the pressure of her throttled face rolled back in her head A slight elongation of her neck was now noticeable. Her neck had been stretched. The life of Kat Blue ended a few moments later.



She hung, by law, one hour on the gallows. At the end of the hour the authorities cleared the remaining crowd. The doctor on call pronounced the woman dead and directed the mortician and his assistant to take the body down and place it in a wooden coffin that would be placed in the horse drawn hearse for the short trip to the funeral home

 

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Countess Diana's Decapitation
By B.A.S.G.

Warning. This story contains descriptions of non-consentual violence, including graphic descriptions of decapitation. If such topics distress you, read no further. If you disregard this warning the author accepts no responsibility for any upset or discomposure you may suffer as a result.

This story remains copyright of the author and may not be published in any form without the permission of the author.
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Countess Diana sat weighted down by chains in the middle of her cell. A day ago she had been Regent of the kingdom, a post she had assumed by assassinating the Queen and executing the Princess Rowena. Her plan had fallen apart in the obscure village where Rowena had lost her head. Jan, the rightful king, had returned from the wars to his native land. He traveled a minor road back from campaign and the first habitation in his own country was the village beside Sir Sadok's castle. He had arrived to find his sister's head and decapitated corpse being strung up on the local gibbet. Countess Diana's care in removing witnesses had saved Sir Sadok from being tortured to death, her poison killed him before King Jan arrived. Jan had left for the wars a boy, and returned a skillful general. He had moved swiftly, surprising Diana in the capital before word of his return could spread. Now the proud, ambitious Countess waited in the dungeon for her inevitable fate.

She needed no great intellect to see what was in store for her. With her four carefully selected amazon bodyguards Diana had been in this very cell, about to torture the Lady Sophia before having her beheaded for her loyalty to Rowena when Jan himself had burst in. Mira, the captain of the amazons had been the only one to reach her sword, only to have Jan's sword take a weight off her shoulders with a single, decapitating stroke. Diana had soon been in Sophia's chains, and waited in the cell, with Mira's headless body for company, as her other amazons were led off to execution. She had seen nothing of the scene on the scaffold, but even in this deep cell she had faintly heard the roar of acclamation that came each time the headsman's axe fell. Now she had four headless young women for company, lying naked to the waist on their backs, nipples pointing pertly at the roof, as they performed their final guard duty. Even the flinty hearted Diana regarded them sadly. They had served her so well, as messengers, assassins and lovers. She had enjoyed all of their bodies at some time, and now those firm young bodies were cold and stiff, their pretty young heads waiting on spikes on the scaffold to be joined by their leader's head.

She knew it must be mid morning, when the door suddenly opened. Diana had never been close to Sadok's executioner, so she didn't recognise him. He gestured to her to stand but she ignored him, a minion beneath her contempt. Suddenly she found herself hauled to he feet. "I have orders to strip you, as I stripped the Princess Rowena at Sadok's command!"

Diana gaped at him. The headsman, the man who would chop her head off! He seemed surprisingly familiar with woman's clothes. The expensive, low cut gown was expertly removed, the buttons carefully undone, with no damage. Diana suddenly realised this gown would become the property of the headsman when her head had fallen. The stripping was a bonus for him, the gown would be unsoiled by blood when he sold it. Rowena's rags would have brought him nothing, but this expensive silk creation could double his income for the year. Diana cursed the bitter fate which had brought her down. Still, she had to admit she would not need the dress once her head was off. Nor would she need the fine silk petticoats that he removed with equal dexterity. To her utter horror, the proud Countess Diana found herself stripped to her chemise, just as Rowena had been before this man cut her head off.

Having carefully bundled Diana's clothes, the big, taciturn man released her from her chains and propelled her from the cell. She was conducted along a dark corridor, and entered a larger cell, well lit with torches. A small group were awaiting her, including King Jan and Lady Sophia. Diana had enough pride remaining not to try to cover her nakedness. She stood tall to hear her sentence. The King looked at Diana coldly. "I will not demean the concept of aristocracy by sentencing you to an ignoble death, you will pay for your crimes with your head. You will die on the same block, beneath the same axe, that my sister did, and you will die stripped and shackled like a common criminal, as you dishonoured her. And you can suffer one further dishonour. As you made my sister die with her bare her arse in the air, you can show off a nicely striped arse as you die. Carry on, Master Headsman."

Diana stood gaping. He could not be serious. She was one of the most noble women in the country. She could not be flogged like a common whore. Two men appeared from behind the little group, carefully maneuvering a whipping horse. The horse was simple, a box with a roughly padded top on four long wooden legs. The men set it down in the middle of the room. The headsman spoke quietly to Diana, "You can submit, or these men can force you down."

Gasping at the enormity of the indignity, Diana stepped quickly up to the horse. Gritting her teeth, she spread her legs, and one of the men immediately knelt and strapped each ankle to a leg of the horse. Diana took a deep breath, gathered what remained of her dignity as a Countess, and bent over the horse. The other man strapped her wrists to the far legs of the horse, while someone (the headsman?) fastened a strap around her waist, holding it down on the horse.

Diana glanced up from her view of the floor, to see King Jan looking coldly at her. She realised the chemise hid nothing, her plump breasts were on full display, swinging pendulously beneath her. Beside Jan, Sophia could not conceal a slight smirk of triumph. Diana ground her teeth. That silly little trollop would become Queen, simply by spreading her legs for Jan, while Diana, who had shown the courage and cunning to almost seize the crown for herself, would be deprived of her head for her temerity. The king walked around the horse to stand behind it. Now Diana almost cringed, knowing that she was presenting her firm, white bottom in all its rounded glory, and the core of her womanhood was as blatantly exposed as that of a whore in the raunchiest brothel in the kingdom. The King's voice was emotionless, "Continue, Master Headsman."

 

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Twisting around, Diana could see the headsman behind her, a thin riding crop in his hand. Diana recognised it as one of her own, whalebone covered in delicately plaited leather. She let her head fall and concentrated on not giving these people the pleasure of seeing her scream.

There was silence but for the crackling of the torches. Diana heard the faint swish and felt the blow land on the centre of her out-thrust bum. Then the pain hit, like a knife slicing across her buttocks. Despite her resolve she could not restrain a grunt as the breath shot out of her. She had scarcely drawn another breath when the second stroke landed. Diana bucked wildly on her bonds, before forcing her body to be still. The third, another convulsive jerk and a moan of agony, quickly cut off. Diana cold feel the sweat pouring out of her as she tried to hold on to her pride. The fourth didn't seem so bad, across the upper buttocks, which spread the pain but did not elicit a cry. The fifth and sixth were vicious cuts, almost simultaneous, against the soft nether bottom just above the thigh. Diana shrieked in agony, her backside gyrating wildly as she squirmed to escape her torment. Her pride evaporated and she sobbed for mercy.

Mercy was slow in coming. Another six strokes welted the opulent bottom as Diana howled and squealed her repentance and begged to be beheaded. The punishment ended with the twelfth stroke, although Diana waited in an agony of apprehension for it to start again as she slumped sobbing across the horse. She heard the King call for mirrors. Gasping for control, she was composed enough to look up when he commanded her to do so, looking into a mirror while someone behind her focused another mirror to show her backside. Her whole bottom was a rich, bright scarlet, criss-crossed with welts of deep crimson. With a moan Diana realised she would go to the block displaying this shame to the entire population of the city.

She heard the group leave the cell. Someone unstrapped her. Slowly, painfully, she stood up. She was alone with the headsman. He placed a bowl of cold water on the horse and suggested she wash her face and compose herself for execution. She obediently followed his instructions. The man even produced a cloth with which to dry herself. Diana was grateful for the small courtesy, allowing her to go to her death with some semblance of calm, to show her courage in the face of death as befitted a Countess. Hesitantly, she thanked him, really looking at him for the first time. King Jan had given the orders, but this was the man who had beaten her pride from her and who shortly would lop her head off her shoulders. To her surprise, she felt a stirring in her loins. Diana smiled slowly, "Master Headsman, I have nothing to reward you for your kindness, ot to tip you for giving me a quick death, except myself. Please accept one last request."

Diana turned and bent over the horse again, presenting herself to the headsman. She felt she could hear his surprise, and grinned to herself. At least she could go out with some style befitting her wild reputation. She heard the rustle of cloth as he untied his codpiece. Suddenly he was pressing against her, his hands reaching over the horse to cup her breasts. Diana was surprised at how wet she was, he slid into her so deeply that she gasped. Then, in a final defiance of death, she gave herself over completely to the pleasure of life. She climaxed twice as he thrust into her, catching her mood and crushing her breasts in his strong hands. He joined her as she came for the third time. Diana lay gasping savouring the feeling of him slowly shrinking within her. She knew her life was measured by the time it took the King and Lady Sophia to reach a room from which they could discretely watch the execution. Yes, and probably allow time for them to undress. Diana had seen the look in Sophia's eyes as she left the cell. Regretfully there was no-one with whom Diana could wager that Jan and Sophia would try to time their orgasm to the moment Diana's head fell.

The headsman stepped back. "Thank you, My lady. I will do my utmost to make it quick. That is the only mercy in my power."

Diana smiled, with genuine pleasure. She was free of the need to control her emotions as she gambled for power. "I thank you too, Master Headsman, and I an glad of the mercy you can give me. And most of all, I thank you for giving me back my courage to go proudly to the block and pay for my sins like a Countess."

The headsman offered the bowl again and she washed her face and dried it. He wet the end of the cloth and wiped her inner thighs. "You must look like a lady, even in your chemise" he told her. Diana kissed him lightly as he refastened his codpiece. Diana had entered the dungeons the day before as Regent, with her hair pulled up and piled fashionably on top of her head. A night in the cells and a thrashing had done little for her coiffure. Using the mirror left behind by the King she repaired it as best she could, tucking up stray strands of hair to leave her neck bare. The headsman frowned. "I regret there is more to come, My Lady." He picked up a handful of heavy chains. "You must go to the block exactly as Princess Rowena did."

Diana shrugged. "I cannot fault the justice of that. Beheading Rowena was politics, the rest was pettiness. I deserve to die in chains." She stood still as he shackled her legs with one chain. Two more chains were affixed, one to each wrist. The headsman twisted the ends together so they did not swing against her as she walked. "It is time, My Lady."

Diana was astounded at the size of the crowd. She knew she was unpopular, but was staggered by the palpable hostility of the crowd. She realised that it was only her imminent decapitation that saved her from being torn to pieces by these people. The crowd had no hesitation in remarking her state of undress and informing her of their opinions of her body. The shrieks of mirth and excoriation increased when they saw her backside. Diana ignored them, she had come here to lose her head, and her focus was simply on offering her neck to the axe. Above the scaffold, on a cross beam, were a series of spikes. Four of them were occupied by the heads of Diana's erstwhile amazon bodyguard. The heads were mounted in pairs, two either side of the central spike. There was Diana's only remaining goal, to take her place in the middle of her most loyal followers.

The scaffold was high, to allow the best view to the greatest number of people. Slowly she mounted the steps. As her head drew level with the platform she saw the block, the crude rural block from Sir Sadok's castle, with its ring bolts for shackling down recalcitrant peasant girls condemned for whoring, theft, or rebellion against the proper authority of their masters. "Sorry Rowena, you didn't deserve to stagger in these shackles." muttered Diana, "I hope you're looking down from wherever you are to see me get mine." The thought jogged her memory and she looked up at the walls of the castle, wondering where Jan and Sophia were.

She had no wish to make a final speech. She walked straight to the block and knelt before it. The headsman quickly shackled her wrists to the block. "Please chop my head off as soon as you are ready." she asked him. Then she meekly bent forward and disposed herself upon the block. Her chin fitted into the aperture cut out for it, leaving her neck supported so that it would not move under the impact of the blade. Diana stretched out her neck as far as she could and waited. Each breath seemed to ring in her ears as she strained to hear the swish of the descending axe. She had no warning, just a mighty blow on her neck. She felt her neck cut through and yet her head remained where it was, staring down at the straw on the scaffold. Was it a mis-stroke? She desperately willed herself to keep still. She couldn't hear her breathing any more, couldn't hear anything. The straw was going out of focus and she quietly slipped into blackness.

By some chance the axe severed Diana's neck in a way that left her head in place, stuck to the block and axe. On the other side of the blade her body was galvanised by the stroke, flinging itself backwards in a spray of blood from the stump of neck remaining on her shoulders. But for the shackles, which held her to the block, it seemed that Diana's body might have leaped to its feet, as Elayna's had done the day before when she was beheaded. Diana's decapitated trunk tugged at the chains and thrashed around, her neck pulsing streams of blood into the air. The crowd shrieked its delight. Her writhings slowed, and her body sank slowly back down into the block. Suddenly, as if to bring the show to a close, her head dropped off the block and rolled in the straw. The headsman stepped forward and picked it up. "So perish all the King's enemies. Behold the head of a traitor!"

High above Jan and Sophia had, as Diana suspected, tried to time their orgasm to her decapitation. Sophia had come when Diana laid down her head, revealing her long white neck outstretched on the black block to the observers above. She and Jan had both come when the axe fell and Diana's squirming body had unknowingly pointed her shorn neck at them and squirted her blood in their direction. The fall of Diana's head had left Sophia moaning with post orgasmic pleasure.

When she regained the power of speech she said, "I hope I will never be so vicious as to kill people for my pleasure, but I must admit there is nothing I enjoy as much as watching a beautiful woman have her head cut off." She giggled, "Except for this of course."

Jan smiled at her, "Just in time, or you might have been the next beautiful woman to lose her head. Now what I need is a Queen and a lawful heir, in that order, so I think we must plan a wedding and then see if you can do this without an execution."

"I am sure I can, Your Majesty. I will try to be as dutiful a Queen as ever there was, but make me a promise. If ever I fall from your favour, don't send me to a nunnery, or have me quietly poisoned, or whatever kings do to be discreet. Have me beheaded. And if I ever seem too cold in bed, threaten me with the block and see how it heats my blood."

It need only be said that Jan accepted the offer and, as Princes Jan and Mikhael, and princess Rowena made their appearance, it seemed that Sophia's compatibility with her husband was complete. It was twenty years later, when Queen Sophia was thirty-eight, that her long, slender neck yielded to a blade and her still beautiful head tumbled from her shoulders. But that is another story.

 

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Sami's Execution
by
Elroy Teddy Roy (copyright 2013)
Sami had her last words with her mother as the Warden and the death entourage entered the holding cell for the condemned at the State Death house. Sami, a twenty-one year old convicted murder was sentenced death by lethal injection and the final minutes of her short life were playing out. Dressed in a common white blouse buttoned at the neck and blue jeans with canvas slip-ons on her feet, no one witnessing her execution (who would be seated in an adjoining room that had a large panel of glass to allow the viewing) knew of the special preparation the scared young woman had to endure just to get to her final moments with her mother, let alone the injection table to follow.

“Miss Brady,” the head female prison attendant said, “for sanitary reasons we must prepare you for your journey today. Please follow my directions and we can get this portion of the proceedings completed and you can be on your way. Your mother is waiting to see you so she can say her goodbyes. Do you understand Sami?”

The protocol for all death row inmates on their last day would be followed without any changes. Sami Brady was in the final processing of her death sentence. The two other prison attendants, again both females, formed a team with the head attendant, and they had experienced two other female executions in the past four years. Sami Brady, to them, was just another woman to be put to death.

“I understand,” Sami responded, somewhat dishearten at the situation she found herself in. “What do you want of me?” Sami’s eyes dashed around the room, looking finally at a table in the corner of the room. On the table sat some items that raised her curiosity and also her concern.
“Please remove your shoes. Then remove your jeans. The purpose Sami is that we have to ensure that during and after your execution you do not have a bowel movement or that you do not urinate. This is for your dignity plus it is a sanitary provision by prison regulations.”

“I thought something like this was going to be done to me. I completely understand.” Sami removed her slip-ons and easily took down her jeans and then removed her white cotton panties. She stood back up, naked, except for the white gold-toe anklets that covered her feet. The smallish woman was naked from the bottom of her blouse that reached past and covered her pubic region. The attendants did not get a view of the woman’s private area, not just yet. “I think I’m thankful that these nice new golden-toe socks are keeping my feet warm. I just know that the floor is cold since it seems cold right now in this room.”

“Yes Sami,” the head attendant said. “I’m sorry about all this but would you please put your elbows on the table and bend forward. Please spread your legs.” Without any backtalk Sami immediately did what she was asked to do.

Reaching for a device that Sami had a premonition about, the head attendant grasped for the rather large rubber butte stopper bent to her knees.
“Sami, this will not hurt. I will be inserting a rubber butte plug into your anus. You will notice it for a few minutes but your body will adjust to it.”
With the expertise of a person that might have used the device on herself at various times, the head attendant felt for the woman’s anus and without hesitation planted the rubber stopper into orifice, deep enough for it to do its job. Sami felt some embarrassment at the insertion, but in a rather strange way, the plug was not uncomfortable.

“Sami, I’m sorry, the head attendant said, getting back to her feet.
“I’m ok. It didn’t hurt. I can feel it but, you know, what options do I have?”
The attendants, all over fifty years of age, marveled at the beauty of Sami’s body, what they could see of it. Sami had not been a person that worked out much but she did carry her weight on her small frame in a way that most women would die for. The condemned woman wouldn’t have the use of that body for much longer.

Using cotton pads, Sami was again asked to spread her legs allowing the head attendant to place a large number of fitted cotton pads into her pubic region, enough that would catch any drainage from Sami if she urinated during her execution. Sami felt the intrusion yet again found it rather enjoyable instead of any real pain or displeasure.

“I guess you have closed me for business, yes”, Sami spoke out to the three attendants. “No more poop or pee, or for that matter, anything else. You just plugged and stopped me up for good.” Sami tried to smile but it didn’t come. She was talking and trying to be a trooper but down deep she was scared to what was to follow that day. She wanted to live but had resigned her fate to being executed.

“Get dressed Sami, that’s it,” said the second attendant.

Sami put her panties back on, following that with her jeans and slip-ons. She tucked her blouse inside her jeans and pulled back her long blonde hair behind her ears. The hair has fallen over her face which she didn’t mind. She didn’t want the attendants to see her cry.

After her preparation was over Sami spent twenty minutes visiting with her mother. Sadly, the twelve noon execution time approached and the Warden and the death entourage entered the room and began their final doings. Sami was shackled with chains from her ankles up to her bound wrists. Her walk to the death chamber wouldn’t be physically difficult, but it would be emotionally draining. A priest, the Warden, the Assistant Warden, a male execution guard, the head female prison attendant, and a medical attendant would take her to her place of execution.

Sami’s walk was quiet, except for the rosary being prayed by the priest and the rattle of the chains that bound her. Sami fought her emotions, once after she heard her female prison attendant call out those dreaded words that all State death row inmates dreaded to here, Dead Woman Walking. Sami’s knees buckled at the words and her face became ashen. Finally, when the death chamber door swung open and Sami saw the table with the straps, she again fought herself from crying, as the attendants used a little force to get her through the door.

Sami was helped onto the table and she lay comfortably once she scooted her head up to the padded cranial rest. Her body was relaxed on her back and she fit the table without concern. Her arms were outstretched at forty-five degree angles from her torso, with both being strapped down at the upper arm and lower arm, close to her wrists. Having her leg chains removed, her legs were strapped down with the thick leather bands just below her knees with a final strap across her mid-section, just under her breasts. Her neck was allowed to lift her head to look around which she did. Her short sleeve blouse allowed the medical attendant to have complete access to her arm veins where he would place his needles.

Sami felt hopeless and with eyes drinking in all that she could see, her anxiety momentarily took over, causing her to bladder to empty into her padded cotton pads. She felt the sensation of the pee, but it didn’t register in her thoughts. Looking over to her right she could see a rather strange looking rectangular box, study but unassuming. She focused her large blue eyes and read the wording on the box. “Remains of Prisoner #________”. The box’s wording sent shivers down her body, knowing that within the hour her mortal remains would be in that container being taken away for god knows what. She quickly moved her head to the left at the exact time the curtains were drawn open, allowing the viewing audience to her execution to see her for the first time strapped and ready to be killed. Making eye contact with her mother, she cried her first real tears in the death chamber as she mouthed “love you” to her dear mother.

“Sami Brady, having been convicted of a capital crime and sentenced to death, do you have any last words or requests,” the Warden said.
Looking directly up to the ceiling, not making eye contact with anyone in the death chamber, nor the audience looking on in the other room, Sami Brady spoke the last words of her life.

 

[vadim69]

2 Sami's Execution
by
Elroy Teddy Roy (copyright 2013)
“Please do this.” Sami closed her eyes and let her thoughts wonder to a better place, away from this room, this table, this final death procedure.

The medical attendant, trained in delivering the right medicines and poisons used to kill a person through injection began his work. The needle that would puncture the vein of Sami’s right arm was inserted without a hitch. Sami felt no pain or didn’t show any emotion on the prick. Within seconds a drug was going into Sami’s arm that would act like a sedative and slow her heart down. It also would render Sami motionless, but she would still have her thought activity in her brain. Not anywhere unpleasant, Sami’s body experience a feeling of sleep, a good forgiving feeling that in a way allowed her to forget where she was and what was going to happen. After a couple of minutes Sami was then given a lethal injection which consisted of an ultra-short-acting barbiturate in combination with a chemical paralytic. Sami’s mind went into a big sleep as the lethal drug stopped her heart a few minutes later. Sami Brady suffered brain death a few minutes later. The medical attendant checked for any heart beat which he couldn’t find. He opened her eye lids to fixed and dilated pupils.

The curtains of the viewing room were closed. The medical attendant placed a white sheet over the body. Sami body, by state law, would be required to rest on the execution table for one full hour upon sentence of death. The hour began at twelve twenty four PM. It would be guarded by the head female prison attendant. Everyone else left the death chamber.
Outside the death chamber in the hallway that would lead back to the main area of the prison, the Warden was in light conversation with the Assistant Warden, as the two were about to give a press conference to the media on hand. The rather small press interview room was packed when the two administrators began their briefing.

“Sami Brady was declared dead at twelve twenty-four PM. She had no last words except to say as I quote ‘please do this.’ The execution went off without a problem. The body will be transferred to the State Medical Examiner’s Office in one hour. Her remains will be turned over to the family tomorrow morning.”

The press briefing lasted a little more than an hour. It was routine.
The hour passed slowly for the female prison attendant and right on the button, one hour after her death, the State Medical Examiner’s Office coroner on call entered the death chamber to prepare the dead woman for her journey thirty-five miles north where she would be processed. The coroner on call that night was an experienced ME and he had two technicians with him.

“Young woman, Sami Brady, female, twenty-one, death by lethal injection” dictated the ME into a small but excellent, and by the way, expensive recording device. “We will now prepare the body for removal from the death chamber for transportation to the State North ME’s facility. Routines will be followed documented as performed.”

The ME pulled back the white sheet that had covered Sami’s body. Looking down at her, the ME again began to dictate into his expensive recording machine while his two experienced techs worked the body over.

“Body is fully clothes with leather straps binding at the lower chest, wrists, upper arms and lower legs. A syringe has been inserted into the right arm at the inner elbow. White blouse, blue jeans, canvas shoes.”

The techs unbuckled the leather straps at the various points but allowed the syringe only to stay in the body’s arm. An ankle tag was attached to the right ankle, over the blue jean. The tag gave only the name of the deceased and date of death. That would be enough until the body was delivered to the ME’s office. That would be within the hour.

Sami’s body was placed in the reinforced rectangular cardboard box which had been laid at the foot of the table. The still limber corpse looked asleep in her cardboard box. Sami had been a good girl during the execution. She was void of any slobber that could have drooled from her mouth and it was apparent that the prep work contained any poop or pee during the procedure. Dealing with “clean” corpses was rare in their business and the ME and his technical assistants were pleased. The box was carted to the waiting ME van and placed on the floor of the van. The trip home for the ME was uneventful.

The corpse of the dead woman was carted to the intake room #3 upon arrival at the ME facility. The two technicians that process the incoming were ready for her and the body would be ready for autopsy within an hour. The lid of the cardboard container was flipped open and the fully clothed cadaver of Sami Brady was exposed to the two assisting techs.
“Nice looking young lady,” the first tech said as his large hands grasped the ankles of the deceased.

“You are correct my friend,” the second tech responded, as he put his hands under the shoulders of the body. “Ready, up she goes,” he continued, as the two men lifted the lady out of the cardboard container, placing her on a fixed stainless steel table in the intake room.

“No real rigor yet,” the first tech stated. Both techs noticed the body slump some at the waist while being moved.
The second tech took the one of her fingers and bent it. He noticed some initial rigidity in the digit.

“She is starting to stiffen up some. I think the pathologist will have her completed before she goes into full rigor. Shame she had to be executed. Some say she was innocent. Doesn’t matter now,” the second tech chimed in.

A head block was placed under her head and the tech made sure that he allowed her long blonde hair fall to the side of the table in a neat and proper way. The dead woman looked quite attractive, even in death, and the men working on her wouldn’t do anything to mess with that presence. They, if asked, would rather work on a beautiful cadaver than one messed up by any means. Sami’s corpse would be remembered far after this this day by the technicians.

Without hesitation one tech grabbed up the body’s right foot and took off the white slip-on shoe, then did the same with the other foot. Removing the anklets followed, giving the men their first glance at the woman’s petite and unblemished feet.

“Exquisite feet and toes my friend,” one of the men said. “Yes, nice pink toes and the bright red nail polish a nice touch.”

Attaching a U-45 toe tag to the dead woman’s right big toe, the tag would have tickled the foot but not on this day at this hour. The complete name and date of death was the pertinent information on the tag. The attendant who placed the tag was handed a pair of cloth scissors which he snipped the lower end of the blue jeans and then ripped upward on one leg, then another. He then removed the jeans which displayed the white cotton panties which covered the pubic region of the corpse. He then cut the panties off.

“Nice shaved pussy. Wonder if the guards at the prison knew that she was shaved? Too fucking bad, such a waste of pussy,” said one of the techs. “Yes perfect, no, an exquisite pussy.”

The other tech removed the blouse, with scissors, and cut the woman’s bra straps, removing both. Sami’s dead body was now completely naked on her morgue table.

“A little baby fat on her, but very beautiful for such a young lady,” the second tech responded at looking at the nude cadaver. She’s high maintenance…..look at her body, no blemishes, manicured nails and pedicured toe nails. Get her stuffing out of her pussy. The autopsy surgeon will be ready for her pretty soon.”

“She has some piss in this pad. Must have had some pee in her that she just couldn’t hold. Her butt plug is void of any feces.”

A white cotton sheet covered the body and the tech flipped the bottom of the sheet by the feet up, allowing the toe tag and the tops of the toes to be visible. Autopsy time was just a few minutes away. Sami Brady was about to give up all her girly secrets.

 

[vadim69]

CAROL'S HANGING (Author?)

---

Carol was standing under the shade of a porch that was fixed to the granite wall above the heavy wooden door that she had just been brought out of, she was shivering in spite of the heat of the late afternoon sun, She was shivering with fear as she stared at the gibbet where the last preparations were being made.

She was naked, "her prison dress having been stripped from her while she was being prepared for he execution, her arms were bound tightly behind her at the wrists and elbows before she was taken from her cell", her firm breasts that thrust out from the way her arms were pulled behind her heaved the nipples hard from her mounting terror and fear.

"Okay, its time they're ready." Said the guard standing beside her.

She whimpered at the feel of the course rope on the skin of her wrists and elbows as the guard led her half way to the gibbet and handed her to the executioner who took her the rest of the way. It was a simple construction, two thick upright wood poles with a heavy crossbeam about ten feet above the ground. From the gibbet hung the noose, carefully knotted with a slip noose. The noose was attached to the crossbeam by a metal ring through which the rope passed, a ladder lay against the crossbeam next to the noose.

As they approached the ladder she felt dizzy and stumbled. The executioner caught her by her arms and walked her on towards the gibbet. The group of witnesses watched Carol's slender naked body as she walked by them then stopped. She stared at the waiting noose in near panic, her breasts wobbling as a shudder ran through her body the executioner held her firmly and gave her a slight shake. She straightened herself and with him grasping her upper arms she walked slowly to the ladder still staring at the nooses. She raised her foot onto the first rung and stepped up, then the next, then the next, slowly, deliberately, the executioner steadying her as she mounted the ladder to the fifth rung. Then he turned around the nooses brushed her face. She tasted the scent of the thick heavy well-oiled hemp noose. The executioner slipped the noose over her head and adjusted it around her neck as he did this Carol looked straight ahead at the gathered witnesses they had a full frontal view of her, as the noose was adjusted around her neck one of the guards tied her ankles together before reaching up with a long piece of black cloth, the executioner took it and tied it about her eyes for a blindfold.

It's all ready," the executioner calmly told her, she gasped for breath, wetness trickling down her thighs, "please do it quickly she whispered!"

As the execution stepped down two of the guards grasped the ladder and pulled it out from under Carol. As she dropped the short distance the rope allowed Carol attempted to scream but the rope bit deep stopping all sound from her mouth, the knot sliding to the back of her neck. Her lovely body swung and contorted her legs kicking wildly as she convulsed perspiration gleamed on her flesh. The crowd of about two dozen witnesses gathered about to stare at her agony and pain. There were an equal number of men and women, some younger, some older, most of them about the same age as22years old Carol. One younger woman stood directly before Carol's dangling body, the sexual excitement clearly showing on her young face.



Karl stood nearby watching his wife's convulsions and hearing her tortured grunts with tears on his face, he did not know if she knew he was there and had not asked, as her next of kin he was required by law to be there. Unconsciously his hand clasped before him was stroking his rigid cock he was strangely excited. Slowly Carol's convulsions dwindled then stopped her face blackened and a stream of urine ran down legs, she hung lifelessly her body turning slowly on the end of the rope.

A short time before dusk the prison doctor reached up and felt for Carol's pulse. She had been silent for over and hour, she was pronounced dead, the witnesses were escorted from the yard as Karl was taken to a room off the yard were he had to sign some papers and was given a box containing his wife's possessions, as the guard went to get the box he looked out through a window into the yard as his wives body was cut down from the gibbet by two guards, one held her around the thighs while the other cut the rope, as the rope was cut the naked body of his wife slumped over the guard he held her with an arm wrapped around the knees her bottom high on his shoulder, as he turned Karl saw the bulge of his wife's vagina encompassed by the top of her thighs, it was open the labia exposed and puffed , this only happened when his wife was sexually aroused he thought, the wetness on her thighs and vagina lips showed she had orgasm as she died he had not noticed this as she was hanging, he noticed to a plug had been inserted into his wife's anus, he had never had anal sex with her maybe he should have, was it that plug that did it he wondered. As the guard turned side on Karl saw her breasts pressed against his back they were beautiful C cup breasts now he would never caress them again, he watched them leave as they made their way to a door at the far end of the execution yard his wife's hair wafting as her head swung from side to side until they disappeared through a door and it was closed behind them. As he turned from the window the guard returned with the box, my wife's body he asked the guard, it will be disposed of by the prison, the bodies of executed prisoners are not returned to next of kin replied the guard. Karl took the box and looked inside, it contained the clothes she wore in court, her dress, shoes and watch was there but her silk bra and panties were missing, he decided not to query it and left through a door indicated to him by the guard. Through the door Karl found himself in a side street near to his hire car he walked to it, got behind the wheel and made his way to the hotel wondering why they had ever came to this island . Little did Karl know that by the time he had reached his hire car his wife's naked body had been hung by the ankles in a back room of the prison and a back street butcher, using a carving had knife hacked off her head then in one piece peeled the torso of its valuable skin , he did not know that in the freezer van that drove up the road passed him his wife's headless skinned body hung by the ankles tied to a meat hook and that by the time he got to the hotel the body would have been butchered and on its way to the kitchens of some very special restaurants, the skin and hair would be being processed in a tannery, it should not have surprised him though the islands were only two generation from being cannibal.

END

 

[vadim69]

THE BODY



The dungeons of that prison were so dark&ldots; there was the need of a vigorous torch to light up

that little room, so empty, so cold, so silent... the men who had carried the body there had gone

away, laying it upon the old wooden bench in the center of the room, while the severed head had

been taken at the Royal Palace to the Queen.



When I entered there, my torch illuminated that girl’s headless body, that was directly in front of

me, laid down on its back, the severed neck turned to the door.

Beyond it, in that room there were the block and the axe with which that girl had been beheaded, an

old chair and some other things, like a straw broom, rusted tools and wooden tables; obviously, that

room was the headsman’s storage, not a mortuary, but it had been selected to hold that beheaded

body while its own head was at the Palace.



I closed the door behind me and, with my torch, I light a couple of candles at the wall, to increase

the brightness of the room; I hung my garment at a hook on the wall and I sat down on the chair at

the right of the girl, to relax me for a moment... I had finished my work at the prison, but I didn’t

want to go home; those dungeons were so calm, nobody else me was in the prison... I decided to

remain there to relax myself, also because it could be dangerous to go outside during the night...



Calmly, I took out my little bottle of wisky from my jacket and I drank a couple of sips from it; I

looked at the body and I asked, joking: “Ehi, do you want some of this?”, but obviously no answer

came to me. So, I drank another sip of wisky for the dead girl.

Then, I put down the bottle and, in silence, I began to stare the headless body.



It was a well proportionated figure, very feminine in every part, beautiful and very voluptuous; it

was still wearing the dress with which it had lost its own head, that morning; it was made by a light

green-blue thin cloth, displaying clearly the shape of the body that was resting below it.

The gown was pulled up up to the knees of the corpse, displaying the absolutely bare legs and feet;

the arms were laid down at the flanks of the torso and the hands, half opened, were motionless in an

absolutely relaxed position; the arms and the bosom were exposed because of the shape of the dress.



That body belonged to Margherita Malatesta, a beautiful blonde girl.; I didn’t know her, but I had

heard a lot about her life during the last days.

She originated from a noble family and she was very well educated; she had been studying

grammar, philosophy, mathemathics for years. Moreover, she was an excellent dancer.

She grew up beautiful, very attractive and almost perfect, so that a great number of guys wanted her

to become their wife.

Margherita got married at the age of 21 with James Corbett, a young and fascinating count; they had

a happy life during the following years, living in a luxurious house just out of the city.

The young girl frequented the royal backgrounds very often, because she knew a great part of the

high society of the kingdom, including the Queen, from which she obtained some secret

informations concerning plans to conquer some territories close to the kingdom, that were very

important ways for trading.

Margherita, who was a strict friend of the sovereign of an interested territorie, spoke to him about

the Queen’s plans; he united with the other interested territories and the conquering plan failed.

The treason was discovered and the Queen, extremely raged, condamned Margherita to be beheaded

in public the following morning. She was only 24.



I had seen Margherita alive the day before she was executed: she had just been brought to her cellar,

and the headsman had gone there to reassure her from her fears; I was fixing a lock near there and I

could hear and see everything.

Margherita was erect in front of the headsman, seeming to be very scared.

She grabbed the man by his arms and, crying, began to stir him; “I don’t want to lose my head!

Please, I beg you, forgive me!”, she screamed.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t decide it”, the headsman replied; “You have to remain calm, you won’t feel

any pain; beheading is the faster and surest way to die. I’m the first headsman of the kingdom, and I

promise you that I’ll cut off your head with one blow only; everything will be finished in less than a

couple of seconds.

I’m here to measure the diameter of your neck, to select the right axe and assure you a clean work;

please, milady, pull your hairs up to your head!”

She remained motionless for some seconds, with her glance lost in the empty space, then she

exploded in tears, laying herself to fall in the headsman’s embrace.

“Noooo, I don’t want to die, I’m so young... ”

After about a minute she calmed down, raising her head from the headsman’s bosom, fixing him

with her still wet blue eyes.

“....Thanks, thanks for your care.... “ she whispered to him, grabbing her blond hairs with the hands

and pulling them upon her head, counfusedly; gently, the headsman measured the diameter of

Margherita’s neck.

In that position, I saw the girl’s bare back and her firm ass under her dress.

“Your neck is very slender and delicate, I won’t have any problems to sever your head tomorrow.

Believe me, you haven’t anything to be scared about!”.

He gently caressed her pink cheek and greeted the girl.



***



I was still fixing Margherita’s decapitated body, and I was comparing it with my remembers; it was

still very beautiful, just like the day before.

I passed my hand upon its belly and I felt it very firm but soft; even if she was dead, no gases had

developed into her stomach.

By running my hands upon her dress, I felt her solid buttocks covered by her tender flesh below the

cloth.

Then, I gently grabbed her left arm to reach her hand... it was very cold, but still soft and sweet;

when I reached the hand, I set it close to my eyes and I began to look at it carefully.

Its shape was very feminine, very soft and pale; as the entire body, it was still perfectly mobile.

I began to move the thin fingers and I noticed that there was still the wedding ring on the little ring

finger.

By moving the girl’s hand on my hands, its beautiful fingernails tickled my wrist; Margherita had

surely been a wonderful lover, a woman who had every characteristic to make a man happy.



I hadn’t been present at the execution that morning, but I’ve heard about it from the headsman,

when I met him in the evening at the prison.

While the day before Margherita was scared as a child, on the scaffold she showed great courage; as

every noble woman, in her teens she had been educated to face beheading with honour.

The scaffold had been set up in front of the prison, and a very large number of persons was there to

see the execution.

Margherita climbed up to the scaffold, her blond hairs were tied upon her beautiful head laying

exposed her sweet neck for the axe.

Before kneeling at the block, she performed a brief speech:



“Good Christian people, I am here to die, because of the high treason I’ve committed to the Queen

and, therefore, to you all. I deserve to be beheaded, and I hope you will pray for my soul.

Long live the Queen!”



And she knelt down at the block.

The headsman raised the axe and, with great force, chopped off Margherita’s beautiful head, that

fell violently into the basket, bouncing on the straw that was contained into it.

On the opposite side of the axe, the body jerked back from the block, sat on its heels and performed

a memorable kneeling fountain; the arms had been tied to the elbows, laying the hands free to

move; they were moving in front of the neck, seeming to look for the blonde extremity that had just

been chopped off from the naive bare shouders.

Great spurts of blood were sprayed high in the air from the shorn stump of neck, following the

rythm of the gone mad hearth inside Margherita’s chest.

After almost half a minute, the body showed a moment of uncertainty and finally collapsed on its

left side, making a deaf thud; by the time, the flow of blood from the neckstump was quite weak

and irregular, as to mean that the heart was about to stop beating and the veins was almost emptied.

After some seconds of silence, the crowd rewarded Margherita’s final performance with a great

applause; the headsman stepped forward and picked up her blonde head by the hairs, raising it high

in the air. Life had already escaped from it.

"Behold the head of a traitress! So perish all the Queen’s enemies!"

By walking to every side of the scaffold, he displayed the severed head to anyone in the crowd,

while the remaining blood was flowing out from the brain through the sliced arteries and veins.

The expression of Margherita’s face was lost in empty spaces; there was a little trace of pain in her

forehead, but the face was mainly relaxed. Her blue eyes had remained half opened as her mouth,

from which a little of blood was still dripping.



The headsman allowed the body to the care of his assistants, while he deeply drove the head on a

wooden pike, in the frontal flank of the scaffold, without closing its eyes or washing it from the

blood.

The wooden pole was well hammered into the deadly cut; passing through the esophagus, it had

broke down the layer of flesh before the palate and it had pierced the dead brain.

The body was passed down from the scaffold, set into a coffin and exposed in front of the scaffold.

In the afternoon, the head was taken by the headsman to his laboratory, to be set up for the

exposition at the Royal Palace, while the headless body was carried to the prison, where it had been

washed by the maids; in the evening, it had been carried there in the dungeons, waiting for the head.



***



The hand of the girl was a little warmer now, because of the contact with my flesh; before laying it

down, I caressed it one more time.

I turned myself to the severed neck of the girl; there wasn’t any trace of blood, because it had been

well washed by the maids that afternoon.

Inside the cut, it was visible the vertebra, some severed veins and muscles; the esophagus and

generally the frontal part of the neck was a bit collapsed down because there wasn’t any bone to

support it.

There was a little of blood that was dropped out from the neck to the wood of the bench, but it was

very few; it was a very strange sensation to touch that severed extremity, that supported a such

beautiful head, while that senseless beautiful body was laid down on that bench, as an amusing toy

with which you could play...

From that point of view, I could see the prominent breasts pulling up under the dress, the tender

bosom and the candid shoulders, surmounted by a white column of flesh that, by looking over, was

brutally interrupted in a red circle.



I moved myself toward the girl’s legs; I was a little excited because, even if that was only a

beheaded body, it had however belonged to a 24 years old beautiful girl... moreover, there was a

great ambience of power in the air; I, humble employee at the prison, was disposing of the headless

body of Margherita Malatesta, one of the most famous and influent person of the kingdom...

I completely pulled up the skirt, to be able to see the girl’s pants: the headless girl was wearing

white pants, thin enough to see what was under them. Its pussy seemed to be very firm... I had heard

somewhere that, when a girl is beheaded, she often feel the greatet orgasm she has ever had...

maybe, this happened to this girl.

I passed my hand on the soft vagina; the girl wouldn’t have felt pleasure from it anymore. I could

fuck her, but I didn’t want to betray my wife with a beheaded girl, so I contained myself by pulling

down the gown upon that pussy and those candid and perfect bare thighs.

I knelt down at the feet of the corpse; the lower part of the legs was still out of the dress, and its

calves were exposed in all their beauty; as I’ve said before, Margherita was a good dancer, so her

legs were well developed and firm and the feet should be very elastic and movable.

Margherita’s legs and feet were perfectly clean now, the maids had washed them too.

In fact, the girl was beheaded barefoot, so that her soles should have been very dusty when the

decapitated body arrived at the prison, and blood drops could have soiled the legs too.

I grabbed the left leg by the calf and I gently lifted it from the wood; it was a great sin that it had to

be buried because, like the entire body, that part was so perfect...

While I was lifting the leg, the foot was swinging from the ankle; it was very soft and tender; cold

as the rest of the body, and it revealed the young age of the girl. That foot was very arched and

rounded like that of a child.

The colour of the soles was a little more pink than the paleness of the rest of the body; that little

touch of pink under the feet made that sweet decapitated body more attractive...

I began to tickle that soft sole, but the body didn’t move... The severed spinal cord visible into the

pale neckstump came to my mind. Perhaps, Margherita was very ticklish...

In the silence of the room, I was clearly hearing the sound of my fingers running under the pink

sole, feeling the death into it... it was a sound of power, power on that noble body whose blonde

head wasn’t there.



I remembered again when I saw Margherita speaking with the headsman... what a firm ass! I clearly

remembered it, and now it was there, in that room, with me.

I wanted to see it again.

Without thinking about it a second time, I grabbed the body by the armpits and I began to raise it

up. The breasts bouced under the dress, moved by the gravity, and the arms limped down.

The right foot foot reached the edge of the bench and fell violently to the floor, making a deaf thud.

I turned down Margherita’s headless trunk on the wood and, by grabbing the legs by the knees, I

replaced them upon the bench, setting them very closed.

What I saw was wonderful: the polite back of the girl was half exposed because of the shape of the

dress, and I could see the bare shoulders reuniting in the pale stump of neck.

A little more down, there was the ass! It was simply wonderful, perfect.

The light gown allowed me to see it entirely, by collapsing down between the beautiful thighs.

I began to feel its solidity by palpating it with my hands, until I entirely raised the gown up and I

saw it clearly, the pants pushed a little into it. It was an ecstasy for me.

By proceeding down, the beautiful thighs were followed by the divine calves and, finally, by the

arched, soled up, pair of feminine feet.



It was dawn, and it was better to turn again the body on its back, because someone could arrive; so,

I grabbed it again by its armpits and I raised the trunk until the corpse resulted to be kneeled on the

bench. Then, I sat it on its heels, looking at the position that the decapitated body had assumed

when the blonde head had rolled down on the floor... that beautiful ass upon those tender pink soles,

while spurts of blood were sprayed out from that severed neck...

I lost myself on those thoughts and I remained motionless for about a minute, while I was still

holding Margherita’s headless body sat down on its heels by the shoulders from its back, fixing the

severed neck, the vertebra, the prominent breasts, the ass and the pink soles.

I came back into myself and I shook the body, as if I woke up from a dream.

Finally, I turned it on its back and I laid it down to the bench, setting carefully the arms, the legs

and the feet in the original position; then, I raised the gown up to the knees as I had found it.



Destroyed by the night, I fell asleep on the chair.



When I opened my eyes, it was a lightful day; the sun penetrated in the room from the little spaces

between the stones of the wall.

Margherita’s headless body was now very lighted up by the sun, and its paleness was more

accentuated than in the weak light of that night.

Yes, it just liked as a toy: I had found it as I had set it before felling asleep.

The feet arched on, the legs out of the gown, the hands at the flanks of the chest and the stump of

neck collapsed down on the spinal bones.



I heard a carriage entering in the prison; I took my jacket from the wall and I stood up; I gently

picked up the left hand of the headless body and I kissed it.

“It had been a pleasure, milady!”

I caressed the sweet hand one last time and I laid it down; finally, I went out from the room.



I met two men near to the entrance of the prison; they were carrying a poor coffin under their arms,

and one of them was holding a straw basket with the other hand.

I knew those persons a little, so I greeted them and I asked what was they carrying, even if I already

knew it. They answered:

“We have to set up the body of that noble girl who was beheaded yesterday morning into this

coffin, with her own head that’s on this basket. It had been exposed at the Royal Palace for the

enjoyment of the Queen. If you want, you can follow us!”

“Sure, I’ll help you!”, I replied. “Please, give me the basket!”.

The man gave it to me, and we walked to the room where the headless body was; I was surprised by

the weight of the head, I thought that it were lighter... I had never held a severed head before.

During the walk, I looked down in the little basket: I could see a spherical shape, encircled by a

white cloth, from which some lock of blond hairs were coming out.

When we arrived in the room, the men opened the coffin and set it on the left side of Margherita’s

body; one man grab the headless girl by the shoulders, while the other one grabbed it by the feet.

They rised the decapitated girl from the bench and set it upon the open coffin; finally, they stopped

grabbing it, and the body fell violently into the coffin.



In the meantime, I had opened the basket, taking out Margherita’s severed blonde head; when I took

it out from the cloth, the beauty of the girl’s face astonished me.

 

[vadim69]

THE BODY2 The face had been made up with mastery: the eyelids had been coloured using a pink pencil; also

the cheeks were very pink, in contrast with the absolute paleness of the rest of the face.

The eyebrows had been vitalized by using a black pencil, and the lips had been coloured with a

bloody red. The blond hairs were cleanly tied up on the back of the head, and some frontal locks of

hair that were laid out and shorted, fell on the Margherita’s face and ears.

The eyes and mouth were closed, and no trace of pain could be seen by looking at that dead face.

I turned the head on my hands, to see the piece of severed neck; it had been cutted off a little more

higher than the middle, so that the slice of neck that was remained on the side of the head wasn’t

very long. The borders of the cut were very sharp and the neck was very rigid, because of the

quality of the axe used and the little lenght of the neck respectively.

I had passed a night with the body of a so beautiful girl...

Finally, I passed the blonde head to one of the men and I said: ”This girl was really beautiful!”.

And he replied to me: “Yes, beautiful as a dream! And she was only 24!”.



Then , the men carried the coffin upon the bench and begin to arrange Margherita’s corpse; they

combined its hands upon its belly and set the legs united. Finally, they carefully set the blonde head

under the feet of the headless body, the face pushed against the bare soles.

“Why do you set her face under her feet?”, I asked.

“That’s one of the penalities for high treason, the last one; every beheaded traitress, even if she was

an aristocratic, must be buried into a poor coffin like this one, her face pushed against her bare

soles, as a terrible and definitive humiliation”, the man replied to me.



Margherita’s body was ready; with some nails, the man definitely closed the coffin, that was carried

out, on the carriage, to be buried at the public cemetery, without any ceremony.

 

[vadim69]

The Price of Love.

Written by K BOB 123



The following is a story I recently wrote for a friend on the net. He has a fantasy of being with Gillian Anderson as she is hanged. Any and all comments appreciated.

The usual caveats apply; Don't try this at home, This is a work of fiction which, if offensive to you, should be avoided. Etc..... Etc..... Etc.....





Looking through the one way glass, your heart catches in your throat. She stands in the center of

the next room, just a few feet away. Her deep wine dress has already been removed, leaving her

in a matching strapless bra, panties and heels. The image is absolutely breathtaking.



She stands with her head down, trembling slightly as the guard finishes tying her hands behind

her back with a length of heavy nylon rope. You! can see from the flush in her cheeks that she is

crying.



The warden touches your elbow, breaking your emotional connection to her.



"Are you sure you want to do this?", he asks.



Looking at her again, you nod stiffly. "Yes. I want to spend every moment I can with her. Right

up to the end."



"well", replies the warden, "It's up to you. Frankly, I don't think I could do it if I was in your place."



Your eyes turn back to the small, beautifully proportioned woman you have come to love. She is

dwarfed by the big, burly guard who is tying her. He finishes knoting the rope and tugs sharply on

it to test his work. Satisfied, he walks to the door of the stark white cinderblock room and knocks.

The door opens and he walks out without turning, leaving her alone.



"You can go to her now.", the warden says.

You leave the observation room, enter the hallway and walk to the door of the adjoining cell. You

present your authorization papers to the guard, and he unlocks the door, holding it open for you.

From the corner of your eye, you notice another door open at the far end of the hall and hesitate.

Looking in that direction, you see another uniformed guard raise his hand in a "thumbs up" signal.

The warden nods curtly in response and whispers "You don't have much time.... Make the most of

it".



As you walk into the cell, your eyes are drawn first to the mirrored wall which you know conceals

the observation room. Then, almost immediately, your focus snaps back to her. Her body is

magnificent, the dark wine color of her langerie and heels accentuating every curve. Her face is

no less lovely because of its puffiness from crying.



At the sound of the cell door opening, she raises her! head and now looks directly at you with wide

tear filled eyes. "Khym!" she cried, "Thank God; I thought I would never see you again!".



You rush to her, holding her tightly to you. You swim in the sensations of her, the softness of her

skin, the erotic pressure of her sensual body, the scent of the perfume you were allowed to give to

her, the dampness of her tears against your chest.



You kiss hungrily, caressing her hair as her lips press to yours and her tongue fills your mouth in a

desperate hunger that tears at your emotional resolve.



"I'm going to do this!", you promise yourself. "I WILL be there for her."



Her body presses into you, rubbing sensuously against your growing erection. Her movements

are awkward as she strains at the rope binding her hands. She wants to hold you so badly, but

cannot. You try to compensate by holding ! her even tighter. Even in heels, she must tilt her head

upward to reach your lips. Your hand caresses her neck and your mind automatically flashes on

what is about to happen.



As her hips undulate, your hand involuntarily begins to slide down her back, running first over, and

then inside her panties. She presses harder against you. Finally, she breaks your kiss and looks

deep into your eyes.



"How did you arrange this?", she asks. "I was told that once I was moved to the holding cell, only

people connected with the......... the "process" would be allowed in."



Your heart aches at her struggle with the words. Even now, with so little time left, she cannot

bring herself to use the word "execution".



"That's right", you reply seriously. "I had to make special arrangements with the warden, and

even then he had to get! approval from the Governor."



"But, how did you do it? They are pretty strict about these things."



You take a deep breath, and exhale. This is the first trial, the first of what you are sure will be a

day of tests to your resolve, and your love. Looking into her eyes, gathering as much strength as

you can muster, you tell her.



"I love you. I couldn't stand the idea of not seeing you again, or of knowing what was going to

happen to you, or that you would have to go through it alone.



"I felt that, if I was with you, it would somehow be easier for you; if, at the end, mine was the last

face you saw."



"That's so sweet of you.... and it's true, of course.", she responded. "But I still don't understand

how you got permission. This state is not exactly known for it's compassion."



You grit your teeth, and take an! other breath, holding it for a moment. You take her face in your

hands and kiss her lightly, first her eyes, then her neck, then her lips. You look sadly into her

eyes once more.



"I had to agree to do it.", you say.



"Do what?", she asks in confusion.



"I had to take the job as executioner. I'm the one who is going to hang you."



She just stares at you, her mouth open, her eyes wide. With the worst of the truth now out in the

open, you quickly rush onward.



"I couldn't stand the idea of you being manhandled by a bunch of impersonal, and perhaps

sadistic, strangers. I thought that, if it was me, I could try to make it easier, somehow."



She begins to cry again, and moves close to you once more. You hold her and feel the

shuddering sobs rack her body. After a time, she pulls away and looks at you once more.



&! quot;You have no idea what this means to me", she says. "I wanted so much to be with you. But I

can't let you do this. There is no easy way for me, and it would be far too painful for you."



"Don't worry about me", you reply. "I want to do it for you. I want to be there, right up to the end.

If that means I have to be the one who kills you, I will."



You hold her once more, and she presses into you with a desperate intensity. Once again you

can feel her arms straining at the rope, wanting so much to touch you. You kiss passionately,

clinging to every sensation for as long as you can. Unconciously, your fingers trace the lines of

her neck once more. Both of your breathing becomes ragged as your hands move over her body.



She breaks your kiss and whispers "Make love to me, please!"



This is the worst.... sadly, you shake yo! ur head.



"That mirror is one way glass. They're watching everything that happens in this room. I can't

make love to you. It's not allowed. They were very specific about that. The warden told me that

he would give us as much latitude in the regulations as possible, but that I could not penetrate

you."



She nods, then seems to brighten a bit at another idea.



"Well", she says, "He didn't put any other limitations on us, did he?"



"No", you reply. "What do you have in mind?"



Clumsily, she begins to slide downward, using your body as a brace. Realizing what she is doing,

you hold her shoulders and help her onto her knees.



"Please let me do this for you", she pleads.

 

[vadim69]

The Price of Love.2

Written by K BOB 123Looking self conciously at the mirror, you undo your pants and push them downward, releasing

your raging erection.&nb! sp; She quickly moves to it and takes it hungrily into her mouth.



She had always been a great cock sucker, but this time, in the desperation of the moment,

knowing that it will be the last time she can be with you, she really outdoes herself. She sucks

hungrily on you, taking you as far into her mouth as she can.



Moving her head back and forth, with no hands to help her, she works you with her lips and

tongue, swirling around the head of your cock with each outward stroke, then sucking you deeply

in until you almost touch the back of her throat.



Between the emotional stress and the adrenalin pumping through your body, it doesn't take long.

Holding her head in your hands, you throw your own back in a loud moan of exstacy as you cum,

shooting hot semen deep into her mouth. Her tongue continues to dance over you as she

swallows spurt after spurt. Finally, after an eternity of pleasure, your orgasm subsi! des and your

mind returns to reality.



You lift her back up to her feet, and quickly rearrange your clothes. Seeing only the love in her

face now, you realize how she needed even this limited diversion. You kiss her, feeling a drop of

your own semen transfer from her lips to yours.



Almost immediately, you hear the keys in the lock, and the door swings open. Standing in the

doorway is the warden, who looks at you and nods slightly.



You look back at her, and softly say "It's time".



Once again, tears begin to flow as she tries to smile for you.



Taking her arm, you lead her out of the cell and down the hall. You follow the warden with two

guards trailing behind. He leads you toward the room where you had seen the other guard signal

earlier. Pausing briefly, you take another deep breath and escort your lover into the gallows

chamber.



Inside the ! door is a large room, much bigger than you had anticipated. It is well lit, and there are

two rows of chairs against one wall. Each of these chairs, 24 in all, is occupied by someone who,

either because of a sense of civic duty or morbid curiosity, was granted a request to witness the

execution.



At the center of the room is a platform about five feet high, with steps running up the right side.

Over the platform, a hangman's noose swings slightly.



She takes all of this in slowly, focusing finally on the noose. You hear her breath catch and she

pulls back slightly against your grasp. Your fingers press thightly against the flesh of her arm,

holding her where she stands.



"I'm sorry", you whisper, "From her on I have to follow procedures exactly."



In a wavering voice, she answers "I understand. Thank you for being with me."



Still holding he! r arm, you move her along to the gallows steps. They are wide enough that you

can easily walk beside her as she ascends. You can feel her terror growing through the trembling

of her warm skin under your grip.



Upon reaching the top, she once again recoils from the image of the noose swinging at the center

of the platform. Now you have no choice. You pull her forcefully to her place, marked by a

painted black square. As you position her, you see that the platform is hinged in such a way that

the entire forward half will drop away when triggered. Nothing to hinder the view, you think grimly

to yourself.



She is sobbing softly now, her shoulders shaking visibly. The rope is positioned directly in front of

her head, and you now see her lovely face framed by the noose. Her chin is wrinkled and

trembling, her eyes downcast as you move it over her head and cinch it down on her neck,

car! efully pulling her hair shoulder length auburn hair free of the loop. You move behind her and

slide the knot carefully around to a point just behind her ear. Once the rope is properly positioned,

you give the knot one more sharp tug, making the rope dig noticeably into her neck. She gives an

audible gasp but, as you had told her, you must follow procedure.



According to the regulations, she is required to hang nude. You reach between her bound arms

and unsnap her bra. She instinctively presses her arms against it, trying to preserve her last

shred of dignity. You move back in front of her and pull it away so her firm breasts are fully

exposed. To your surprise, you see her nipples harden noticably. In spite of yourself, you feel

your cock begins to stir again at the site of her trembling breasts.



Next are her panties. Sliding your fingers between the fabric and her silky hips, you ! slip them

down to her ankles. As you move downward, your face pases close to the dark triangle between

her legs and you smell the musk of sexual arousal.



"They have to come off", you whisper.



She hesitates, then steps out of the panties, lifting one foot at a time so you can take them.

Looking down at the material in your hands, you notice a dark stain of wetness at the crotch. With

your cock now throbbing, you wonder if she is as turned on as you are. Could it be?



Now you must make the final preparation. Using a piece of rope which had been left on the

platform for this purpose, you wrap it tightly around her legs, just above the ankles. There is

enough rope for five smooth turns before you tie it off. With nothing left to do, you stand and look

at her face for the last time in life.



"I love you, Gillian", you say huskily.



"Thank! you...... for everything", she answers in a quavering voice, just above a whisper.



Unlike the gallows of earlier days, there is no mechanical lever to pull. You walk back down the

steps and take your position at a control console in front of the platform. From here, you will

release the trap electronically. However, it also gives you the clearest, and closest view of the

hanging.



Standing beside you, the warden begins to read from a legal document in his hand.



"Gillian Anderson, you have been found guilty of a capital crime and, according to the laws of this

state, sentenced to hang by the neck until you are dead. I hold in my hand a Death Warrant,

signed by the Governor. As warden of this facility, it is my duty to execute this order. Do you

have anything to say before sentence is carried out?"



Shaking uncontrollably now, soft moans vibrating in he! r throat, she can only shake your head.



"Then I now direct the executioner to carry out sentence.", he says, and nods to you.



For a moment, you feel frozen in time. You look up at the woman you love, standing bound and

naked on a platform with the heavy noose around her neck. You feel your erection pounding as

you see her, more beautiful, more desirable than you have ever seen her before. You must act.



With a force of will beyond anything you have ever experienced, you lift the safety cap and press

the large red button before you. With an enormous crash, the front section of the platform falls

away, pounding against the supporting beams of the gallows.



Quickly, you turn your attention to her. You had hoped that the drop would be long enough to

break her neck, ending her torment quickly and mercifully. That is not to be, however. This state

is very strong on! the deterrent value of capital punishment, and so makes sure that an appropriate

example is made of all condemned criminals.



The fall is less than two feet, leaving the majority of her body still above the platform when the

rope jerks tight, digging deeply into the flesh of her neck. Her brief scream as she realizes she is

falling is cut short, ending in a rasping gag as the noose pulls her head around and over to one

side.



Now comes the worst part. In order to be with her, you are required to perform all the duties of

the executioner. This includs watching her from the moment she is hanged, until the doctor

certifies her dead. You stare, transfixed, as her beautiful, naked body writhes and thrashes

against her bonds. You see her hands desperately wringing against the rope, trying to get free

and release the pressure on her neck. She kicks her legs frantically, trying to reach the ground

! which is fully three feet below her. Her face is now a bright red, her mouth open wide seeking

even the slightest breath of air. Her efforts result in only a pitiful gaging sound, each kick pulling

the noose tighter.



As she swings, you see her struggles take on a more rythmic motion. Her hips undulate, and her

shoulders shake, making her breasts sway erotically. Again you notice her nipples, standing out

hard and erect. Even if you weren't required to watch, you could not look away now.



As you stare, you see the dark flush of her face deepen even further, and a pink blush spreads

down across her breasts. She lifts her knees slightly, then thrusts them downward, her legs

shuddering at the end of their travel. She does this again.... and again.... and suddenly you

realize she is cumming! She is having her last orgasm as she dangles at the end of that rope!



Frozen in place,! you watch her cum, and suddenly feel your cock begin to throb as you reach your

own orgasm. Painfully aware of the witnesses, you try to hide the spreading stain on your pants,

as you look over in their direction. Looking from face to face, you see the same unmistakeable

look on a number of the men, and even two of the women. Those who are not having their own

orgasms are so fixated on your lover's death throes that they don't look away, even for a moment.

They have no more interest in you than they would in a spider crawling across the floor.



Realizing that you must still watch the hanging, you refocus your attention on her. Her face is now

a nasty purple color, and her tongue is protruding out the side of her mouth. Her body is still

swaying from the motions of her legs, but those movements have lessened dramatically now. As

her body slowly turns, you see her face fully. A thin line of pink tinge! d saliva is running out the

corner of her mouth, down her chin and drips onto her breast. Looking at her eyes, you see that,

even now, she is still alive. However, the terror is gone now, replaced by a look of acceptance.

As your eyes lock onto each other, you see her mouth moving sluggishly. 'I love you'? Did she

try to say 'I love you'?



Still not sure if you actually saw it, or just imagined it, you watch as her eyes roll up and her

struggles cease. In the utter silence of the death chamber, you hear a small tapping sound, and

see a growing puddle below her swinging body. Looking closer, you see the trail of urine where it

follows the curve of her legs, and is now dripping off the toe of one deep wine shoe.



As your gaze moves slowly upward, you take in details you know you will never forget; the still

sexy curves of her body, the final twitches of her delicate fingers, the creases in her neck wh! ere

the rope, now almost completely burried, dug cruelly into her.



You begin to rise, but the warden motions you to remain seated. A doctor presses his

stethascope to her breast and listens intently. With his acknowledgement, the warden speaks to

the witnesses.



"Ladies and Gentlemen, sentence has been carried out. Gillian Anderson has been duely

hanged, and has been pronounced dead at 12:25 P.M. You may leave as the guards direct you."



12:25. It has been nearly twenty minutes since you pressed the button and hanged her. As you

get up from your position, you see two orderlies roll a gurney out from behind the gallows platform

and begin to lower her body onto it. Your last image before turning to leave is of one of the

orderlies, straining to remove the noose from around her neck. You walk out the door without

turning back.



As you lea! ve the prison, your mind wrestles with what you have done this day. Slowly, your

compassion for a lover overpowers your guilt. It was not easy, but she needed you. You were

there for her at the end, and that is what is important. Such is the price of love.



Written by K BOB 123

 

[vadim69]

The hangman's apprentice. by
optics21 "Accused Rebecca Healy; you have been found guilty of the crime of theft of property over the value of 15 shillings. The sentence of this court is that you shall be returned to the place whence you came, and at noon of the following day, to be led barefoot to the customary place of execution and there you shall be hanged by the neck until your body be dead. Rebecca Healy; may the Lord have mercy on your immortal soul."

The twenty year old woman stared at the judge in shock, her blue eyes became as wide as could be expected to after hearing such a dreadful sentence. Then it hit her. The daughter of one of the more prominent merchants in the town realized that there would be no mercy for her and any hope of her family being forced to pay a fine or even being transported to one of the colonies to start a new life had just been extinguished. Upon realizing that this was indeed the last day for her to be alive for its entirety the girl let out a loud ear-piercing scream which quickly transitioned into a long wail. Two bailiffs, wanting to spare the sizable crowd which had assembled itself in the courtroom to hear the fate of arguably one the most beautiful daughters of the town, more of this heart-rending spectacle, grabbed the terrified girl, who was now on her knees sobbing piteously, begging the judge to reconsider the horrible sentence, by her shackled arms.

As the bailiffs were dragging the sobbing and begging Rebecca out of the courtroom back to the gaol to live out the rest of her short life. Elric, the apprentice of the local hangman too was worrying about his future. His master had left the town a week ago to look after his mother who had fallen ill. Although he had often assisted his employer with the executions, helping him to pull the condemned up by their necks, putting their bodies into coffins and selling their clothes (since the hangman was an honest man he always received a small commission), he was never at the center of the spectacle. As such small mistakes he made did little to influence the town’s opinion on his proficiency as a hangman and as such, the likeliness of him becoming the new town hangman when his employer would become too old for the job. When Elric heard the death sentence being passed upon the girl he knew that this time it would be his task to perform the execution in its entirety.

Since the execution was set for the next day, he had little time to make all the nescessary arrangements. He collected the money from the judge and went to the local ropemaker to buy both the rope that would bind Rebecca’s slender wrists as well as the rope the girl would be suspended by until she was no more. The ropemaker always had a couple of feet of hemp rope that had been stretched and cooked in order to make it as inflexible as possible. After that was taken care of he paid the local tailor a visit and collected the calf-lenght cheap white shift it was customary for female condemned to die and be buried in. As the young hangman looked at the faded dress he realised the rarity of the event he was soon to become a vital part in. As the town kept growing, more and more wares came in and as such the number of thefts kept growing and with that the number of condemned thieves. There was hardly a month without some condemned wretch mounting the scaffold to perform their „dance“ in front of the gawking multitude. Most condemned whom he helped deliver to the hereafter were male, most of the time homeless vagabonds who were drawn to the town for its newly acquired wealth. Of course it was sometimes the case for an old gypsy hag, a whore who had fallen on bad times or a female vagabond to be dragged in front of the local magistrate in rags to be sentenced to death. Those women couldn’t however compare to the young woman whose sentencing he witnessed earlier today. Rebecca Healy was admired by many for her luxiourious ginger hair, her piercing blue eyes as well as her slender but well-formed figure. Her father had plans to send her away to the capital to marry the son of a bigger merchant family in order to expand their activities. All those plans had been destroyed however by the atrocious sentence. Elric himself had himself taken a liking to the young redhead, only from a far of course as he himself with his ghoulish profession and modest income would hardly be considered a good match by her family. He was sure that the young woman did not even know his name. Sadly it was now upon him to put a noose around her neck and hoist her up to strangle to death in the air. It was the harsh reality of his trade, but one he had long since come to terms with. The hangman's apprentice had never imagined himself execution such an important person and wondered how it had happened that Rebecca Healy had been convicted in the first place. From what he had heard through gossip, the young woman had, in a sudden rush of immaturity, stolen one of the local tailors‘ dresses. Although the craftswoman herself had forgiven the foolish girl and asked the judge for leniency, he had remained unmoved. Elric speculated that one of the other merchants in the town had „greased the hand of justice“ in order to remove a dangerous rival.

In order for the young hangman to complete the preparation for tommorows execution there was one more thing he had to do.so he made his way to the local coffinmaker and in order to make the nescessary arrangements. As Elric did not know Rebecca’s exact measurements he had to speculate as the coffin should be big enough to fit the young thief’s body inside it, but not too big so it would not cost the town too much. Executions were solely a matter of the court in this town and the bodies of executed criminals became the property of the court and as such the families of the condemned could not make any arrangements as to the clothes their relatives would die in nor the details of their burial. Elric handed the payment to the coffinmaker and upon receiving the assurance that the Rebecca's plain pine coffin would be completed on this very day and delivered to the scaffold at dawn. Content with Today's preparation, the hangman's apprentice headed back home. After a day's work he would usually have a cup of wine at the local inn but before he could fill his belly and listen to the stories told by traveling merchants there was one last preparation he needed to make.

He entered the empty house of his employer, sat down on a stool near the window (the setting sun still provided enough light and he did not want to waste any lamp-oil. He took the thicker rope out of his sack and proceeded to tie a hangman’s noose. It was a motion he had done many times before and so the process itself only took a few moments. Elric looked at the noose he had fashioned and wondered how much money he would be able to make from selling it piece by piece to people who hoped it's supposed magic powers would protect them from evil. Since it would be used to end the life of one of the town's most beautiful young women Elric was sure that he would have enough willing customers this time around. The hangman's apprentice rose to his feet and made his way to the desk across the room to a desk situated on the other side of the room upon which lay a clay jar full of grease which was used to make the noose tighten easier and thus close the airway of the condemned faster making for a shorter „dance“ and quicker death.

 

[vadim69]

The hangman's apprentice. by
optics21 2 Just as Elric started to coat the rope with the grease he heard a knock on the door. Quietly cursing the late visitor he walked to the door and opened it to see a hooded figure.

"May I come in?"
Elric immediately recognized the voice of the Judge who had sentenced the young woman he was preparing to hang.

"Of course your honor, I shall light some lamps at once."
"There is no need. I will only stay for a short while. I came to talk to you about tommorow's execution, the Healy girl. I was wondering if you could do the court a small favor and prove yourself as its loyal servant."
"Certainly your honor, I serve at your pleasure."
"Good lad. I want you to substitute the rope you bought today with this one."

The judge produced a piece of rope already tied into a noose. It was darker and thicker than the one Elric bought and he could see, without touching it that it would tighten a lot slower than his.

"Very well your honor, I shall see to it"

He took the rope from the judge and wanted to grease it. When the Judge saw his intentions he interrupted him immediately.

"There is no need for that, I don’t want you to waste it on the neck of a thief. This pig fat would be put to better use on a piece of bread."

Elric gave the judge a bewildered look.

"But your honor, it is customary that…"
"Enough. You either serve the court or you do not. If you ever doubt your allegiance I want you to remember that there are plenty of young fools out there who would do much more for easy bread."

The judge gave the apprentice a threatening look. Elric understood. He took the judge‘s rope and put it in the sack with the other utensils he would need tomorrow. His visitor turned around and walked towards the door but turned around on the threshold threw a pouch containing some coins on the bed. And said:

"I think it would be best if our little meeting remained a private affair. Remember, I take good care of my friends. But if you ever betray my trust I want you to remember that justice often is a double edged sword."

The judge walked out leaving Elric with a bewildered look on his face. The apprentice quickly left the house as well and heading out to the inn where he had two cups of wine instead of the usual one. There was also a purely practical reason for his visit as he used some of the court's remaining money to hire a local day laborer to assist him in lifting the condemned thief off the scaffold by her neck. Upon making his arrangements he walked back to his home and was overtaken by nervous sleep after much tossing and turning.

The apprentice awoke the following day at dawn , washed the sleep from his face and ate a modest breakfast consisting of two slices of bread and some cheese. He then took the sack with all of the needed items and made his way about half a mile to the gallows when he arrived at the scaffold there was already a small crowd waiting for the spectacle to commence. They cheered for him as he walked up the platform and took the rope and threw it over the beam and tied the other end off with a knot that was easy to untie. The day worker he had hired was already waiting beneath the scaffold for his deployment. Elric had already explained to him that all he needed to do was provide the nescessary muscle strength to get Rebecca Healy off the ground quickly. After ensuring that all was properly prepared he walked to the gaol along with the remaining items: the binding rope and the white death-shift.

Upon entering the stone building of the gaol he spotted a visibly distraught man leaving the building whom he recognized as the father of the condemned. He had heard the previous night that the unhappy man had sold all his assets and chartered a boat that would bring him to the colonies so he would not have to witnessed his only child being executed in such a brutal way. Elric went through the heavy gate of the gaol and stated his business to the jailer who promptly led him to the steel door of the girl's cell. The gaol at that time was empty and so him and the jailer could hear the condemned woman praying loudly, with her voice frequently breaking into sobs.

"Dear God, you have sent your only begotten son to die on the cross for the sins of man. You who have even forgiven the repentant criminal on the cross. I beg you….please….forgive me for I believe wholeheartedly in your divinity….please….I….I dont want to die like this!"

The young woman's prayer broke off into sobs again. Elric couldn’t handle it anymore and the jailer opened the cell door for him. He saw her kneeling on the floor, her head in her hands, sobbing spasmodically. When she heard the heavy door open, she jumped to her feet and looked at the two men with her blue eyes reddened from all the crying opened wide in terror. She reminded Elric o fan animal caught in a trap that sees the hunter coming towards it with a knife. Elric spoke to the terrified young woman,

"Miss Haley. A priest will be here shortly to take your last confession but before he arrives I am going to need you to follow me, don’t make this harder on yourself please."

The fear-stricken woman slowly staggered out of her cell, Elric grabbed her by the shoulder and lead the condemned young woman to another room in the gaol wherein was situated a tub filled with warm water and an empty chest. The jailer told Rebecca to take off all of her clothes, wash her body thoroughly, deposit all of her clothes in the chest then to put on the white calf-lenght shift brought by Elric. Both of the men then left the room, the jailer however on whom the beauty of the young condemned were not lost lead Elric into yet another room, this one however had a small barely noticeable hole in the wall through which the room with the tub and the chest could be observed in its entirety. And so both men watched as the young woman one of them was tasked with killing slowly took off her leather shoes with shaking hands then slowly and quite clumsily unbuttoned her shirt which by now was badly stained by her tears. Under her shirt the young redhead was wore a tight fitting tunic which she took off as well. Her bare breasts were now visible to both men, they were not particularly large but what they may have lacked in size they last up for with their form, there was not even a hint of sagging, her prominent nipples provided good contrast to the rest of her body which was, in keeping with her hair colour and her pampered life before she traded it in for a dark prison cell and a rough hempen rope to end her young life, quite pale and free of blemishes safe for the freckles on her face. Rebecca proceeded to take off her last bastion of modesty, her blue ankle-lenght skirt. She wore naught under it and soon Elric and the jailer were able to see the naked body of the condemned in its entirety. Her legs were quite long, her slender mid-section almost did not any trace of fat on it, her arms and hands were quite small and feminine. There was a small thatch of ginger pubic hair between her legs and her well shaped round white buttocks were peppered with freckles. As the unhappy woman cleansed herself in the tub, Elric could not avert his eyes from her feminine form. As Rebecca finished washing herself and started to dry her skin with a piece of cloth which lay on top of the chest the jailer grabbed Elric by his shoulder, indicating that it was time to go. The two men sat down on a bench opposite of the room where Rebecca Healy’s last bath had now come to an end. Before long the priest arrived and dispassionately asked them whether the condemned was in the room. When he received an affirmative answer he entered the room and closed the door behind him. As the priest administered the last rites to the condemned her hangman and the jailer struck up a conversation.

"She sure is a good looking lass. Shame it has to end this way for her but then again, I am pretty sure that when the people in the crowd see her kicking the air, they will think twice about breaking the law."
"Certainly"

Replied Elric

"I just hope she will be able make the walk to the gallows. It would be a shame if she would have to be dragged and carried to the scaffold. Tell me, did she get any sleep tonight and was she fed properly?"
"Well, she spent most of the night crying and sobbing, as most future gallows birds tend to do but I gave her a cup of wine and I guess that helped. I think she slept about four hours If I recall correctly. Now when it comes to food and drink, we fed her more than enough and we sure gave her more than enough water I am usually not one to waste resources but then again court orders are court orders"

With each word Elric understood more and more. He did not have the time however to contemplate the conspiracy that he had become a part of as the door to the room opened and the priest walked out without saying a word leaving the steel door open. The two men entered the room and saw the young woman sitting on the chest clad in the white execution garment. The priest's visit seemed to have calmed the condemned somehow as she no longer shivered and blankly stared at the wall. Elric broke the silence

"Miss Haley, it is time."

Rebecca slowly rose to her feet . Her hangman could see that the young woman shivered and was trying to avoid another breakdown as best as she could. In spite of the horrible injustice she was being subjected to the desire not to dishonor her family. She had begged her father not to witness her final moments, so he could remember her as his loving daughter, not a hanged thief. She was determined to go to her fate with dignity, perhaps her family would one day return to the town and it would be better for her to be remembered as a brave girl who accepted her fate bravely. The young woman also noticed that her bladder had filled up from all the water the jailer had given her to her on the previous evening she was too overwhelmed by her imminent death by strangulation to ask to use the privy. When the girl stood up Elric saw that she was still wearing her leather shoes and so he said to the condemned:

"Miss, the court has sentenced you to walk barefoot to the gallows so you are going to need to remove those or we shall do it for you"

The young condemned bent down and gingerly removed her footwear and stood, now barefoot before the two men, one of them was tasked with putting a rope around her neck which would be used to pull her up by her slender neck and hang her until she was no more. She was then told to put her arms behind her back. While the hangman bound her slender wrists, the jailer held her by the shoulders straying her. As the arms of the young woman were firmly tethered at the wrists she began crying again. He then grabbed the shivering condemned by the shoulder and motioned the barefoot young woman out of the room. When Elric exited the gaol There were already 4 soldiers waiting outside to escort Rebecca to the scaffold along with two bailiffs and the priest who had administered Rebecca her last rites earlier. Elric led the condemned to the center of this grim procession so she was standing in the middle of the four soldiers and was flanked by two bailiffs. Her hangman then positioned himself behind them.

As the grim procession set itself in motion Rebecca saw small groups of people lining the road none of them threw things at her, none of them insulted her, all off them had either sympathetic, sad or curious looks on their faces. As the condemned walked further on the dusty road towards her doom, her bladder was demanding her attention more and more but it was manageable and it mattered little to her whether she would die with an empty or full bladder. She was lost in her thoughts of never seeing a sunrise in early summer again and the fact that she would never talk to her family or friends again. Those thoughts wrapped themselves around her and caused her to start breathing extremely quickly. As they turned the corner and the scaffold came into view the young condemned couldn‘t control her fear anymore and began to sob and hyperventilate. The young woman then gave a high pitched scream, fell to her knees, vomited and fainted with terror. Immediately she was pulled up by the bailiffs back to her knees and given a few minutes to compose herself as she sobbed and stained her only piece of clothing with her tears as she was unable to wipe them away with her bound hands. The bailiffs then lifted her back to stand on her, now dusty, bare feet and the grimm procession continued to make it’s way to the scaffold. When they arrived under the gallows the two bailiffs grabbed the crying, barefoot girl by her bound arms again and led her up the stairs. Up on the scaffold Elric’s assistant and an army drummer were already standing beneath the gallows. The two court officers deposited the bound girl in front of the noose that would, in a matter of moments choke the life out of her. She was doing her best to control herself as she saw all of these people who would witness her death and so she clenched her teeth and only shivered in fear.
It was now time for Elric to do his job so he approached the scared girl and put the rope around her slender neck, he then grabbed most of her long ginger hair and proceeded to carefully pull it outside of the noose so it would not interfere with the young redhead’s strangulation. He then walked back, motioned his assistant to follow him, grabbed the other end of the rope and pulled the condemned up slowly until she had to lift herself on her bare feet and stretch her slender neck to be able to breathe normally. From behind Elric could now see tears dripping onto and staining the wooden floor of the scaffold in front of the young woman’s overstretched, white, dusty soles. The sentence was then read out slowly by one of the bailiffs which caused the condemned thief to start sobbing again. All resolutions of dying in dignity forgotten, Rebecca began to beg for her life offering terms of redemption and promises of never coming in conflict with the law again. It was all for nothing as the army drummer began his drum roll. Everybody knew that when it ceases the condemned would be lifted into the air to perform her last „dance“. Without hope for the mercy of man, the crying redhead now addressed God, begging him to spare her this terrible death. It was all for naught. The drummer abruptly stopped his roll and three seconds later Elric and his assistant gave the rope a strong tug and fully lifted Rebecca Healey off the floor.
The girl gave an audible gasp as the rope tightened around her slender neck and immediately started trying to get her soles back on the floor of the scaffold. Audible gurgling was coming from her opened mouth. At first Rebecca tried to stretch herself downward as far as possible hoping to reach the ground. She did this for about 15 seconds, her pretty face slowly turning from very pale to a light shade of red. As the young thief couldn’t get any her bare feet on the ground and her lungs began to burn and she could only get a very small amount of oxygen inside them with each gurgling gasp, she began to kick her legs. Normally with an oiled rope the gurgling and gasping would subside after 20 seconds or so as the noose would simply become too tight to allow for that, this time however the desperate sounds just kept coming from the young woman's opened mouth for what seemed like an eternity. As the sounds coming from the strangling girl became less the frequency of her kicking only increased. Then it happened, the panic-stricken thief tried to get her bound hands in front to pull the strangling rope from her throat but instead grabbed her gown and pulled it back in her terror. The seams on her cheap dress were hardly of the best quality and the seam on the back broke and so the front of the death-shift fell down, no longer covering the sufferer’s, now sweat-covered torso. The crowd gasped as they saw the horrible immodesty the young woman was subjected to and gasped at the unseemly spectacle. Everyone now saw her heaving pale breasts as her legs continued to dance frantically kicking the remnants of her white, faded shift far and wide for everyon to see.
After 15 horrible minutes the bare-breasted woman's movements became weaker and weaker. Elric sighed with relief as this horrible spectacle was slowly coming to an end. Although small strangled whimpers still emerged from her drooling mouth but there was no doubt her life was slowly slipping away. The legs of the condemned woman still moved but in a thoughtless disorganized manner. Rebecca's suffering and dishonor were not over however as almost everyone could hear a hissing coming from between the girl's kicking legs. Everyone could now see the yellow stream of liquid coming from beneath the ripped gown of the suffering, now utterly dishonored young woman. It was quite a frequent occurrence for hanged criminals to lose control of their bladders but as they were usually only given a few sips of water, not many people noticed their release. In this case, however, the shameful urination went on for many seconds and at the end of it, a large puddle had formed beneath the dangling sufferer. The kicking grew more and more listless after the young woman had fully, involuntary, relieved herself. All movements gradually stopped soon after.
Five minutes after the hanged woman stopped moving Elric went on with his task of removing the body of the condemned from the gallows but first however, he cleaned up the mess Rebecca's execution had caused. He then untied the rope and slowly lowered the young woman's body to the floor of the scaffold. He then walked back to his victim and took off the rope from the girl's neck (It had left an impressive red welt in her white flesh) and put it back into his sack. He wanted to ask his assistant to help him move the coffin up to the scaffold but he was already gone off to get paid, no doubt. Elric sighed and went down the stairs he had made his way up. Most of the crowd had already gone on their way, clearly distraught by the horrid and indecent spectacle. Elric grabbed the pine coffin and carried it up the stairs. When he arrives at the top, he heard it. Strangled sounds, then hoarse screaming. With disbelief he saw Rebecca Healy’s body moving spasmodically, as much as her bindings allowed her…

 

[thehangingtree]

The hangman's apprentice. by
optics21 2 Just as Elric started to coat the rope with the grease he heard a knock on the door. Quietly cursing the late visitor he walked to the door and opened it to see a hooded figure.

"May I come in?"
Elric immediately recognized the voice of the Judge who had sentenced the young woman he was preparing to hang.

"Of course your honor, I shall light some lamps at once."
"There is no need. I will only stay for a short while. I came to talk to you about tommorow's execution, the Healy girl. I was wondering if you could do the court a small favor and prove yourself as its loyal servant."
"Certainly your honor, I serve at your pleasure."
"Good lad. I want you to substitute the rope you bought today with this one."

The judge produced a piece of rope already tied into a noose. It was darker and thicker than the one Elric bought and he could see, without touching it that it would tighten a lot slower than his.

"Very well your honor, I shall see to it"

He took the rope from the judge and wanted to grease it. When the Judge saw his intentions he interrupted him immediately.

"There is no need for that, I don’t want you to waste it on the neck of a thief. This pig fat would be put to better use on a piece of bread."

Elric gave the judge a bewildered look.

"But your honor, it is customary that…"
"Enough. You either serve the court or you do not. If you ever doubt your allegiance I want you to remember that there are plenty of young fools out there who would do much more for easy bread."

The judge gave the apprentice a threatening look. Elric understood. He took the judge‘s rope and put it in the sack with the other utensils he would need tomorrow. His visitor turned around and walked towards the door but turned around on the threshold threw a pouch containing some coins on the bed. And said:

"I think it would be best if our little meeting remained a private affair. Remember, I take good care of my friends. But if you ever betray my trust I want you to remember that justice often is a double edged sword."

The judge walked out leaving Elric with a bewildered look on his face. The apprentice quickly left the house as well and heading out to the inn where he had two cups of wine instead of the usual one. There was also a purely practical reason for his visit as he used some of the court's remaining money to hire a local day laborer to assist him in lifting the condemned thief off the scaffold by her neck. Upon making his arrangements he walked back to his home and was overtaken by nervous sleep after much tossing and turning.

The apprentice awoke the following day at dawn , washed the sleep from his face and ate a modest breakfast consisting of two slices of bread and some cheese. He then took the sack with all of the needed items and made his way about half a mile to the gallows when he arrived at the scaffold there was already a small crowd waiting for the spectacle to commence. They cheered for him as he walked up the platform and took the rope and threw it over the beam and tied the other end off with a knot that was easy to untie. The day worker he had hired was already waiting beneath the scaffold for his deployment. Elric had already explained to him that all he needed to do was provide the nescessary muscle strength to get Rebecca Healy off the ground quickly. After ensuring that all was properly prepared he walked to the gaol along with the remaining items: the binding rope and the white death-shift.

Upon entering the stone building of the gaol he spotted a visibly distraught man leaving the building whom he recognized as the father of the condemned. He had heard the previous night that the unhappy man had sold all his assets and chartered a boat that would bring him to the colonies so he would not have to witnessed his only child being executed in such a brutal way. Elric went through the heavy gate of the gaol and stated his business to the jailer who promptly led him to the steel door of the girl's cell. The gaol at that time was empty and so him and the jailer could hear the condemned woman praying loudly, with her voice frequently breaking into sobs.

"Dear God, you have sent your only begotten son to die on the cross for the sins of man. You who have even forgiven the repentant criminal on the cross. I beg you….please….forgive me for I believe wholeheartedly in your divinity….please….I….I dont want to die like this!"

The young woman's prayer broke off into sobs again. Elric couldn’t handle it anymore and the jailer opened the cell door for him. He saw her kneeling on the floor, her head in her hands, sobbing spasmodically. When she heard the heavy door open, she jumped to her feet and looked at the two men with her blue eyes reddened from all the crying opened wide in terror. She reminded Elric o fan animal caught in a trap that sees the hunter coming towards it with a knife. Elric spoke to the terrified young woman,

"Miss Haley. A priest will be here shortly to take your last confession but before he arrives I am going to need you to follow me, don’t make this harder on yourself please."

The fear-stricken woman slowly staggered out of her cell, Elric grabbed her by the shoulder and lead the condemned young woman to another room in the gaol wherein was situated a tub filled with warm water and an empty chest. The jailer told Rebecca to take off all of her clothes, wash her body thoroughly, deposit all of her clothes in the chest then to put on the white calf-lenght shift brought by Elric. Both of the men then left the room, the jailer however on whom the beauty of the young condemned were not lost lead Elric into yet another room, this one however had a small barely noticeable hole in the wall through which the room with the tub and the chest could be observed in its entirety. And so both men watched as the young woman one of them was tasked with killing slowly took off her leather shoes with shaking hands then slowly and quite clumsily unbuttoned her shirt which by now was badly stained by her tears. Under her shirt the young redhead was wore a tight fitting tunic which she took off as well. Her bare breasts were now visible to both men, they were not particularly large but what they may have lacked in size they last up for with their form, there was not even a hint of sagging, her prominent nipples provided good contrast to the rest of her body which was, in keeping with her hair colour and her pampered life before she traded it in for a dark prison cell and a rough hempen rope to end her young life, quite pale and free of blemishes safe for the freckles on her face. Rebecca proceeded to take off her last bastion of modesty, her blue ankle-lenght skirt. She wore naught under it and soon Elric and the jailer were able to see the naked body of the condemned in its entirety. Her legs were quite long, her slender mid-section almost did not any trace of fat on it, her arms and hands were quite small and feminine. There was a small thatch of ginger pubic hair between her legs and her well shaped round white buttocks were peppered with freckles. As the unhappy woman cleansed herself in the tub, Elric could not avert his eyes from her feminine form. As Rebecca finished washing herself and started to dry her skin with a piece of cloth which lay on top of the chest the jailer grabbed Elric by his shoulder, indicating that it was time to go. The two men sat down on a bench opposite of the room where Rebecca Healy’s last bath had now come to an end. Before long the priest arrived and dispassionately asked them whether the condemned was in the room. When he received an affirmative answer he entered the room and closed the door behind him. As the priest administered the last rites to the condemned her hangman and the jailer struck up a conversation.

"She sure is a good looking lass. Shame it has to end this way for her but then again, I am pretty sure that when the people in the crowd see her kicking the air, they will think twice about breaking the law."
"Certainly"

Replied Elric

"I just hope she will be able make the walk to the gallows. It would be a shame if she would have to be dragged and carried to the scaffold. Tell me, did she get any sleep tonight and was she fed properly?"
"Well, she spent most of the night crying and sobbing, as most future gallows birds tend to do but I gave her a cup of wine and I guess that helped. I think she slept about four hours If I recall correctly. Now when it comes to food and drink, we fed her more than enough and we sure gave her more than enough water I am usually not one to waste resources but then again court orders are court orders"

With each word Elric understood more and more. He did not have the time however to contemplate the conspiracy that he had become a part of as the door to the room opened and the priest walked out without saying a word leaving the steel door open. The two men entered the room and saw the young woman sitting on the chest clad in the white execution garment. The priest's visit seemed to have calmed the condemned somehow as she no longer shivered and blankly stared at the wall. Elric broke the silence

"Miss Haley, it is time."

Rebecca slowly rose to her feet . Her hangman could see that the young woman shivered and was trying to avoid another breakdown as best as she could. In spite of the horrible injustice she was being subjected to the desire not to dishonor her family. She had begged her father not to witness her final moments, so he could remember her as his loving daughter, not a hanged thief. She was determined to go to her fate with dignity, perhaps her family would one day return to the town and it would be better for her to be remembered as a brave girl who accepted her fate bravely. The young woman also noticed that her bladder had filled up from all the water the jailer had given her to her on the previous evening she was too overwhelmed by her imminent death by strangulation to ask to use the privy. When the girl stood up Elric saw that she was still wearing her leather shoes and so he said to the condemned:

"Miss, the court has sentenced you to walk barefoot to the gallows so you are going to need to remove those or we shall do it for you"

The young condemned bent down and gingerly removed her footwear and stood, now barefoot before the two men, one of them was tasked with putting a rope around her neck which would be used to pull her up by her slender neck and hang her until she was no more. She was then told to put her arms behind her back. While the hangman bound her slender wrists, the jailer held her by the shoulders straying her. As the arms of the young woman were firmly tethered at the wrists she began crying again. He then grabbed the shivering condemned by the shoulder and motioned the barefoot young woman out of the room. When Elric exited the gaol There were already 4 soldiers waiting outside to escort Rebecca to the scaffold along with two bailiffs and the priest who had administered Rebecca her last rites earlier. Elric led the condemned to the center of this grim procession so she was standing in the middle of the four soldiers and was flanked by two bailiffs. Her hangman then positioned himself behind them.

As the grim procession set itself in motion Rebecca saw small groups of people lining the road none of them threw things at her, none of them insulted her, all off them had either sympathetic, sad or curious looks on their faces. As the condemned walked further on the dusty road towards her doom, her bladder was demanding her attention more and more but it was manageable and it mattered little to her whether she would die with an empty or full bladder. She was lost in her thoughts of never seeing a sunrise in early summer again and the fact that she would never talk to her family or friends again. Those thoughts wrapped themselves around her and caused her to start breathing extremely quickly. As they turned the corner and the scaffold came into view the young condemned couldn‘t control her fear anymore and began to sob and hyperventilate. The young woman then gave a high pitched scream, fell to her knees, vomited and fainted with terror. Immediately she was pulled up by the bailiffs back to her knees and given a few minutes to compose herself as she sobbed and stained her only piece of clothing with her tears as she was unable to wipe them away with her bound hands. The bailiffs then lifted her back to stand on her, now dusty, bare feet and the grimm procession continued to make it’s way to the scaffold. When they arrived under the gallows the two bailiffs grabbed the crying, barefoot girl by her bound arms again and led her up the stairs. Up on the scaffold Elric’s assistant and an army drummer were already standing beneath the gallows. The two court officers deposited the bound girl in front of the noose that would, in a matter of moments choke the life out of her. She was doing her best to control herself as she saw all of these people who would witness her death and so she clenched her teeth and only shivered in fear.
It was now time for Elric to do his job so he approached the scared girl and put the rope around her slender neck, he then grabbed most of her long ginger hair and proceeded to carefully pull it outside of the noose so it would not interfere with the young redhead’s strangulation. He then walked back, motioned his assistant to follow him, grabbed the other end of the rope and pulled the condemned up slowly until she had to lift herself on her bare feet and stretch her slender neck to be able to breathe normally. From behind Elric could now see tears dripping onto and staining the wooden floor of the scaffold in front of the young woman’s overstretched, white, dusty soles. The sentence was then read out slowly by one of the bailiffs which caused the condemned thief to start sobbing again. All resolutions of dying in dignity forgotten, Rebecca began to beg for her life offering terms of redemption and promises of never coming in conflict with the law again. It was all for nothing as the army drummer began his drum roll. Everybody knew that when it ceases the condemned would be lifted into the air to perform her last „dance“. Without hope for the mercy of man, the crying redhead now addressed God, begging him to spare her this terrible death. It was all for naught. The drummer abruptly stopped his roll and three seconds later Elric and his assistant gave the rope a strong tug and fully lifted Rebecca Healey off the floor.
The girl gave an audible gasp as the rope tightened around her slender neck and immediately started trying to get her soles back on the floor of the scaffold. Audible gurgling was coming from her opened mouth. At first Rebecca tried to stretch herself downward as far as possible hoping to reach the ground. She did this for about 15 seconds, her pretty face slowly turning from very pale to a light shade of red. As the young thief couldn’t get any her bare feet on the ground and her lungs began to burn and she could only get a very small amount of oxygen inside them with each gurgling gasp, she began to kick her legs. Normally with an oiled rope the gurgling and gasping would subside after 20 seconds or so as the noose would simply become too tight to allow for that, this time however the desperate sounds just kept coming from the young woman's opened mouth for what seemed like an eternity. As the sounds coming from the strangling girl became less the frequency of her kicking only increased. Then it happened, the panic-stricken thief tried to get her bound hands in front to pull the strangling rope from her throat but instead grabbed her gown and pulled it back in her terror. The seams on her cheap dress were hardly of the best quality and the seam on the back broke and so the front of the death-shift fell down, no longer covering the sufferer’s, now sweat-covered torso. The crowd gasped as they saw the horrible immodesty the young woman was subjected to and gasped at the unseemly spectacle. Everyone now saw her heaving pale breasts as her legs continued to dance frantically kicking the remnants of her white, faded shift far and wide for everyon to see.
After 15 horrible minutes the bare-breasted woman's movements became weaker and weaker. Elric sighed with relief as this horrible spectacle was slowly coming to an end. Although small strangled whimpers still emerged from her drooling mouth but there was no doubt her life was slowly slipping away. The legs of the condemned woman still moved but in a thoughtless disorganized manner. Rebecca's suffering and dishonor were not over however as almost everyone could hear a hissing coming from between the girl's kicking legs. Everyone could now see the yellow stream of liquid coming from beneath the ripped gown of the suffering, now utterly dishonored young woman. It was quite a frequent occurrence for hanged criminals to lose control of their bladders but as they were usually only given a few sips of water, not many people noticed their release. In this case, however, the shameful urination went on for many seconds and at the end of it, a large puddle had formed beneath the dangling sufferer. The kicking grew more and more listless after the young woman had fully, involuntary, relieved herself. All movements gradually stopped soon after.
Five minutes after the hanged woman stopped moving Elric went on with his task of removing the body of the condemned from the gallows but first however, he cleaned up the mess Rebecca's execution had caused. He then untied the rope and slowly lowered the young woman's body to the floor of the scaffold. He then walked back to his victim and took off the rope from the girl's neck (It had left an impressive red welt in her white flesh) and put it back into his sack. He wanted to ask his assistant to help him move the coffin up to the scaffold but he was already gone off to get paid, no doubt. Elric sighed and went down the stairs he had made his way up. Most of the crowd had already gone on their way, clearly distraught by the horrid and indecent spectacle. Elric grabbed the pine coffin and carried it up the stairs. When he arrives at the top, he heard it. Strangled sounds, then hoarse screaming. With disbelief he saw Rebecca Healy’s body moving spasmodically, as much as her bindings allowed her…

Impressive piece!!!

 

[vadim69]

Mexican Death Penality by ExExPat93


It had been 6 months since the Mexican death penality had been
reinstated. It had come and gone over the years but this time the
authorities had choosen a different method of execution. The
research had been done on current world methods.

The United States had lethal injection, Russia still used a shot to
the back of the head, the EU had instituted the autotine (a faster,
cleaner, gulliotine), and Saudi still used the sword.

The decision was made, decapitation was the most humain and cheapest
choice. A doctor would not need to oversee the proceedings as death
would be certain, it would be quick, and it would instill terror.

As amnesty internation protested on the world news; the Saudi Union
of Royal Executioners came forward with a deal for Mexico.
As the position of executioner was usually handed down through the
families in Saudi Arabia; the families had out grown the demand in
their home country. A deal was cut and foreign labor was brought in
to do the deed.

Sandra W. was too be the first victim. Sandra was not really the
victim, her victim had been her husband. She had shot him one night
after he had come home after drinking to beat her as he did every
other night.

Sandra at 33 was a stunning woman but the jury did not have mercy on
her or sympathize with her reason. She was to be made an example for
all others, justice for all, regardless of sex, social position,
reason, excuse, drugs, appearence, money, or shifty yankee lawyers
brought down from the United States.

She was stunning and protests around Mexico broke out when the
verdict was broadcast live. During her trial a cult of personality
for her had developed. The trial had been televisied worldwide, CNN
had latched on to the poor lady about to be executed in Mexico and
how unjust it was.

There were an equal amount of people that had a secret desire to see
her executed.

That is what the Government gave the people. It was decided to be a
pay for view event to raise money for the current social programs
long before Sandra had shot her husband. There was speculation that
she had done the deed to get her 15 minutes of fame. She knew those
accusations to be absolutely false. Her husband was a brutal animal
that deserved to die and she was just in her actions. She knew it was
unjust to die for killing that pig.

Never the less the internet and worldwide pirate telecast event had
brought in over $115 US.

The white shift was brought in the day of the event. She and her
cell was searched one last time. Justice would not be stolen from
those that had paid to view the execution of Sandra W. Angel,
beautiful maiden, husband killer, sex symbol during her trial, enemy
of the state, woman.

Sandra was 33. Her age was undeterminible by her looks. At 5'9,
slim build, slight of breast, and a heart shaped ass; she could have
been a latina soap star. Curves in all the right places. Many a
guard had propositioned her on deathrow in exchange for small
perks. They were not so different from her husband and she denied
them. Her eyes bright and angry, high cheek bones, arched eyebrows,
and full red lips set against a coffee indian tanned skin. She
illested both pity and lust at the same time.

Her grey prison garb was taken after she changed into the white
shift. A red ribbon was given to her to tie her hair into a pony
tail of her long, big curl, raven black hair. She was careful to
look her best before the event. She was given no underwear and the
shift was almost transparent showing her dark abundant pubic hair and
coin sized nipples on coltish breasts. Her hands were placed behind
her back and bound before being lead to the chamber. She walked
proudly, head high, but her knees shook as her nerves failed her as
the end rushed toward her.

There were no cameramen in the brightly lit room, automated cameras
would catch every angle from every corner and above. An arabic man
in traditional islamic costume stood alone in the center of the room
leaning on a large scimitar. Beheading sword of king and commoner in
Saudi Arabia. The large and tall man also wore a mask over his eyes,
the type highwaymen wear in movies. When Sandra saw him her knees
almost gave out and she almost peed on the spot. Guards on either
side of her made sure she stayed on her feet and guided her to the
center of the room.

She had not been instructed in how this would be done. She was
forced to her knees onto the concrete floor. One of the guards copped
a feel of her breast on the way down and she jerked away from the
hand that pinched her nipple painfully.

Then came the disembodied voice over the intercom. When she heard
it's first booming note she almost urinated in fear.

"Sandra you have been found guilty by a jury of your peers and the
people of Mexico of homicide by firearm and capital murder, a crime
punishible by death. Sandra on this day, July 21, 2011, you have
been taken to the execution chamber of this prison to have that
sentence carried out. Do you have any last words before punishment is
carried out?"

She looked forward, the lights were so intense she could not make out
the wall in front of her even though it was less than 15 feet away.
She choked.

"I did not deserve this. This is wrong. You did not have to live
with my husband. He raped me, he beat me. I was left with no
choice. I could not escape him or my life any other way. Please do
not do this. Please stop this from happening. I do not want to die
like this. Please, stop!", her statement ended in shriek that echoed
in the room. She started hyperventilating in short pants.

The executioner forced her head down and swept her ponytail aside.
Sandra fought it only half heartedly and closed her eyes not wanting
to see what came next. There was a pause and she wondered why such a
quick proceeding had not come to a conclusion. She looked forward,
her eyes wide in terror. Then she heard something whishing through
the air above her. Her vulva lips contracted tightly; her clitoris
extended fully from it's hood in final orgasm. Her hot urine shot
explosively out of her into the air. Her mouth formed a round look of
shock.

The sword was the sharpest that could be made, a ceramic metal
blend. Light and hard. Thin and strong. The headsman had lifted it
high over his head. Millions in their homes held their breath homes,
it was about to happen. Camera angles switched between Sandra and
the Headsman. Spilt screening. Catching all the angles. Sandra had
been forced down and no one expected her to move at the last second.
The producer in the booth caught her just in time to switch to #1
camera. Face forward and caught Sandras last expression as she
looked forward. Eyes wide, white against her dark face. Million
dollar shot, money shot!, he thought. He knew he would be making
high budget movies after this work of art.

The sword went through her neck with unexpected speed and the
Headsman caught it's momentum before it's tip touched the floor.
Crimson exploded behind her face, forming a halo of blood where her
body had once connected to her beautiful head. Her head pushed
forward an inch by the jet of blood from her arteries and arched
forward on it's trip to the floor. Blood shot from her neck stump
into the air! As the first wet splats of blood hit the floor to the
beat of her heart her unrestrained body tried to step to it's feet.
Her shift caught beneath her knees tangled in her unguided,
faultering step and tore as the body tried to break free.

Men and women around the world, the sickest of the many that had
bought into this grand event, came in their lazyboys in front of
their televisions and computers in the darkness of their homes.

Her body slowly gave up the fight and keeled to one side. Her breast
and cunt exposed; her purple nether lips and pink clit contrasting
against the black pussy hair. Her legs kicked a slow motion, sideways
air walk. Blood pooled at her neck stump and head. Her long fingers
twitched to the ebbing tempo at her neck.

When Sandra had felt the blade on her neck and white hot pain her
jaws locked and tears flowed from her eyes. After a few blinks of her
eyes she died and the full intensness of her expression faded in
seconds.

The camera faded then shots from all angles repeated; in fast and
slow motion. Sandra was history...

 

[vadim69]

SANDI LOSES HER HEAD
by "The Inquisitor"

Sandi had been looking forward to her Middle Eastern holiday for nearly a
year. A senior in High School, the petite blonde cheerleader was majoring in
international politics, and wanted to understand more about this exciting and
important part of the world. She had been raised in a liberal hosehould, and
understood how the peoples of the region were often unfairly maligned by the
US media. So it was with a sense of anticipation that she gazed out at the lights
of the exotic city through the taxi windows on her ride in from the airport. The
sights, sounds and smells of the teeming metropolis seemed to offer her a whole
new world of experience.

And for a while, that promise had held. A sun-drenched beach, a handsome
young man, a summer romance, a richly appointed villa - Sandi's holiday was
turning out wonderfully. And than catastrophe struck. Her new boyfriend began
demanding that she perform sexually for him in ways she found distasteful. At
first she reluctantly agreed, not wishing to annoy him. He seemed very well-
connected in this strange country, and his family were said to be very powerful.
But one night his demands went beyond her limits, and she flounced off in a
rage, after making several rather pointed comments about his lack of prowess in
certain areas.

What Sandi did not know is that the young man was not simply well off - his
uncle was the Minister of State Security. And in this country, that was the sort of
power one did not insult. She was shocked to discover, early the next morning, a
squad of police kicking the door of her hotel room off its hinges. She was
dragged, protesting that she was an American citizen, before a hastily
assembled court. The judge looked sconfully at her and told her she had been
charged with sexual immorality. He asked her if she had anything to say in her
defence. Sandi drew herself up to her full 5' 3" and began to recite a list of her
former boyfriend's sexual drawbacks. The judge smiled thinly.

"So you admit to engaging in these acts?" he asked quietly. "At first yes, but
them when he wanted me to..." The Judge raised his hand for silence. "It is
enough. Foolsh child, you have condemned yourself. This court finds you guilty
as charged. The sentence is death. You will be beheaded in the public square
after Friday prayers this afternoon. Court adjourned."

Sandi stood in the dock, completely stunned. She hardly felt anything as the
police led her to the cells. Death? Beheaded? Wha...? Goddamn it, this was the
20th century. She was an American citizen! They couldn't do this! Could they?

The man from the US Embassy was most apologetic later when he visited
her in the cell, but apparently, yes they could. He explained to her about the
young man's uncle, the strategic importance of this country to US interests, the
vital need not to destabilise the regime by being seen to interfere in its judicial
process....oh, and did she have any final message to pass on to her parents
back in California?

Sandi finally understood that this was not a bad dream. She was not going
to wake up. These people were going to execute her, and her own country wasn't
going to help. She collapsed in a fit of sobbing. The Embassy man, who had
seen this sort of thing before, quietly left. He had witnessed this sort of justice
meted out far too often. He knew later her would have to deal with hysterical
parents, and collect and send home the girl's personal belongings. That was
hard. Even more difficult was writing a State Department news release trying to
justify the Embassy's inaction. Still, that was what he was paid for. He'd done it
before, and would no doubt do it again.

Sandi was now in a state of shock. She simply sat on her bunk, blind and
uncomprehending. She smoked cigarette after cigarette, hardly knowing she was
doing so. She was almost unaware when some female jailers opened the cell.
She was thrown a long white robe, and told to take her clothes off and put the
robe on. Robotically, she did as she was told. When she was done, she stood up
while one of the woman jailers brushed her long, straight, blonde hair, which
hung down past her shoulders. The jailer expertly braided Sandi's hair and tied it
with a blue ribbon. This way it would be easier to keep the hair out of the way of
the executioner's blade.

Finally Sandi was deemed ready. Her hands were placed behind her back
and tied gently but firmly at the wrists with a length of stout cord. Then two of the
jailers took her by the arms and led her out of the cell. Sandi felt as if she was in
a trance. As if in a movie she saw herself being led down a long coridoor,
through a door, and out into the still bright sunshine of late afternoon. There was
quite a crowd gathered in the main square to see the American girl beheaded.
They fell silent as the small group approached the raised platform.

Sandi looked up, and saw a roughly-carved wooden block in the middle of
the dias. It had a cuved indentation in it. For her neck to rest on, Sandi thought
to herself. They're going to put my head on that block and cut it off. Oh my god,
this is ACTUALLY HAPPENING! She began trembling in fear, but the two
woman jailers held her tightly and led her up the steps. Sandi saw there was
plenty of sand around the block. Blood, she thought to herself. To soak up the
blood...MY blood! She turned, and for the first time saw the executioner. In
deference to religious sensibilities, no man was permitted to execute a woman. It
had to be another woman.

The executioner was a striking Arab woman in her early 30s, with dark hair
and full breats which could be observed, even through the modest black robe
she wore. At her side, it's handle resting in her hand, was a huge double-bladed
axe. It glinted in the later afternoon sun as the executioner hefted it
experimentally. Sandi caught hr eye. The Arab woman smiled and nodded, as if
to reassure the young girl that she would try to make the experience as quick
and painless as possible.

Sandi swayed in the unaccustomed heat as a legal functionary read out the
charge, the verdict and the sentence in Arabic. The crowd were utterly still now.
They leaned forward. No one wanted to miss a moment of the humiliation of the
power of the United States. They had nuclear weapons, but they could not
prevent the execution of a girl, one of their own. Some had brought their families
to watch the spectacle.

Sandi felt herself pushed to her knees in front of the block. Hands then
leaned her body forward so that her neck rested lightly on the curved
indentation. Sandi gazed hopelessly into the straw-lined basket that was placed
directly beneath, to catch her head. Blood was pounding in her head like a steam
hammer, and her body was trembling all over. Oddly enough, she felt quite
aroused. Her hands twisted behind her back, but the cord was bound far too
tightly. A figure stepped in front of her, and she felt her braid being
slipped to one side. Then a thick black blinfold was wrapped around her head,
and tied tightly at the back.

She heard
a movement in the sand as the executioner took up her position. The axe was
placed on Sandi's neck as the Arab woman prepared for her swing. Sandi barely
felt its sharp coolness against her soft skin.
There was a sudden swift wistling in the air above her.......

 

[vadim69]

JULIE DANCES ON AIR
By Coiled Tesla

The last three weeks seem like nothing more then a few hours. It
started with a phone call that my wife had been arrested. There had
been a road rage incident and in the end, a woman who had never been
in a physical conflict before, ran another woman down.

We have been married for twelve years now and last July, my wife Julie
celebrated her 40th birthday. She has always been very healthy and
kept in excellent shape. She is still very beautiful even at the age
of 40.

The plea bargain was murder in the second degree and even that charge
could have been fought down if Julie herself had not been so
distraught. As with many incidents, it was a result of a combination
of anger, frustration and fear coupled with the random circumstances.
No one expressed anger or malice to her through out the brief trial or
sentencing, as she herself suffered more remorsefully than any justice
system could impose.

Her compunction grew after the more she learned about the life she had
ended. She had never spoke of suicide, but, she had barely been made
aware of her sentence of twelve years in prison with a chance of
parole in six, when she began asking about the options for giving her
life in return for then one she had taken. At first, I did not
understand her thoughts and request. Then it became clear that she
wished to give her life so that others could live.

Much of this was an acceptance that, to her, living twelve years in a
cage would be worse than dying. She did not want to spend the years
in sorrow and wished to donate her organs specifically to help a
friend and also a child she had read about. Within a short period of
time her calls to various organizations brought many requests and
support.

Her first plan was that she be put under anesthetic and the organs
removed until death came over her. We had always differed on organ
donation and I again voiced my opposition. She was insistent now that
she had identified six people whose lives she could save.

I tried to reason with her that twelve years was not a lifetime. She
was more rational, in that I would only see her for an hour or two per
month and even then I would either have to fly or relocate to do so.
Phone time would be limited and she didn’t like to write. To her, it
would be better to end her life with the happiness she had and
complete one final great moral endeavor.

Two factors challenged her plans; laws that would not allow doctors to
knowingly end a healthy life and her desire to be conscious as she
died. For two days she consulted with experts in human anatomy,
pathologists and coroners about ways to terminate life in the human
body. The most chilling meetings were with executioners and the way
she would scientifically ask, “can I be executed by” a specific
method.

After much debate and discussion, she had systematically eliminated
lethal injection and gassing, as it would contaminate all the tissues.
Electrocution would do even more damage. She had given serious
thought to beheading, as it would be quick and would allow for almost
immediate use of organs, but had it never been practiced in the United
States.

We had a long discussion about firing squad, which had been her early
favorite. To her it seemed honorable, but in her discussions with
shooting experts it was concluded that there could be no guarantee of
only piecing her heart and not damaging the lungs, which were in dire
need.

This left only a few options. She called me in and said, “I have
decided and I need you to support me. I am going to have them hang
me.”

She then related the details that she elected to be hanged by the
short drop method. A long drop, which was the standard in our
country, attempted to kill by breaking the neck, but did not always
create a quick death and many times created extensive internal
bleeding and may damage the body. In a short drop, the person died by
asphyxiation and due to reduced blood flow to the brain. While the
short drop appears to take longer, many argue that it is more humane.

To further her point, she also admitted that in her research she had
found many accounts of women using the exact same technique to achieve
orgasms and, she half joked, what would be a better way to go?

Her greatest challenge would not come from having the courage to
continue, but from the legal system. After many phone calls, and much
publicity, a battery of lawyers started the motions. It took the
support of governors and senators to cut through the paper work. A
donation even came in from a large company to cover the legal fees of
the expedited procedure.

Media companies came forward to pay millions if they could film the
whole process. I objected to the idea, but left the final decision up
to here as it was going to be her day and her show. She contemplated
the offers for a long while before deciding, that they could film the
show, as she called it, if the state approved. The state did approve
and the money, she hoped, would allow me to live in comfort.

Finally the legal means to proceed were in place. An execution could
be requested by someone convicted of first degree murder, but, not
second. With her consent she agreed to plea guilty to first-degree
murder.

Judges, and many other officials, consulted with her to verify that
this was what she really wanted to do. They explained that once the
proceedings started and the sentence was handed down there might be no
turning back.

The day in court was a hectic media event to add to the already
difficult task ahead for us. We were escorted in three hours early
and kept in a holding cell. Julie was not treated like a criminal.
She was only handcuffed when absolutely required by law, but even then
they were lax. Much of her treatment was the consequence of her
nobility and that her petite stature did not pose much threat.

When we entered the courtroom, I saw the judge was the same woman who
had tried to talk her out of her decision. We sat together holding
hands and I notice she was dressed more like a fashion model
rehearsing for an ad for women’s business suits than someone who was
about to receive a capital sentence.

The judge called her to the bench and spoke to her quietly off the
record. She nodded and stepped back a half a pace drawing herself up
as high as her trembling body would allow.

The judge read the new charges and asked her how she wished to plead.

“Guilty, your honor,” she rasped in almost a whisper.

“Very well,” the judge said in her best monotone. It was clear that
she had a lot of emotion hidden.

“Julie, as per your request, sentencing shall be immediate.” She
paused, and moved her papers. “In accordance with the law regarding a
conviction of capital murder in the first degree; you are sentenced to
death by hanging. To honor your request, this will be carried out at
a time of your choosing ten days from now.” In those few moments, she
became a hero and a symbol of bravery.

The brief time remaining was filled with interviews and publicity.
She was even a cover story for Time magazine. She was anxious, but
also drawn by a veiled desire at the same time. The urge to explore
the death ritual became an obsession.

She talked with me as to what she should wear. At first she was going
to be hanged naked so the surgeons could work as fast as possible.
Her next though was to be the most appealing to me. She insisted that
it be a surprise. At times it was more like she was preparing for her
prom or an exotic dance.

 

[vadim69]

JULIE DANCES ON AIR
By Coiled Tesla 2
Early yesterday morning we visited this room with the executioner.
The exchange was friendly and like a business transaction. The small
talk started when he commented on how brave she was and that she did a
wonderful thing. She asked that he do everything to the best of his
abilities and honor her wishes.

He described the whole process and what would happen almost as setting
up for a Broadway show, which in a way, we both knew it would be. As
she checked out the trap doors and gallows posts, I thought she might
reconsider, but I think her pride would propel her to the end. One
could see fear tempt her for a minute or two of silence, but then she
asked questions from everything regarding drop distance to erotic
asphyxiation.

Yesterday we spent as much time together as possible. Last evening
she called her friend who needed the lungs and the parents of the
child who her sacrifice would save. Following her calls, we talked
and held each other well into the night until she fell into a light
sleep. Try as I could, I could sleep at all and I lay next to her not
moving for fear of waking her. Normally such a night would have
dragged on, but to me hours had taken only minutes.

I had last seen her an hour ago. She needed to change, finish her
make-up and complete her final preparations. We had agreed that I
would have to watch from the observation balcony.

We had been in the holding chamber next to the gallows room. Outside
the cell were two doors. One led back to the main area and the other,
I knew, to the execution chamber. We shared a last long kiss I would
have never stopped except for the man who came to let me out of the
cellblock and escort me to the waiting area.

It is 11:50 and the room is utterly quiet. It is almost completely
made of a beautiful flame maple wood. The entire chamber is warm
honey blond color with clear stain. It is brightly lit with
floodlights and automated cameras are positioned in strategic
locations. It looks like they refinished the entire chamber in the
past week and the color seems too warm for a place were an execution
will take place.

The room is almost thirty feet high. It is thirty feet from the wall
behind me to the one behind the platform. It must be about forty feet
wide. Two stairways lead from the floor below us up the platform
across from us. The platform is fifteen feet above the lower floor
and has no railings. It is all finished in the same warm blond clear
coat.

In the side wall, at the far right of the platform, is wooden door
with a black door handle. Ten feet from the door, and parallel to it,
a five-foot long perpendicular wooden screen separates the entry area
from the rest of the platform. Hanging on a peg near the corner of
the door is a polished metal frame interleaved with black leather
straps.

Perfectly centered in the room is a four by four foot rostrum raised
another foot above the elevated platform. I know this is where she
will stand with one foot on each of the two-hinged trap doors. In the
shadows below the doors I can make out the latch release mechanism and
the catch slots that will keep the doors from swinging back together.
There are no railings or safety cables in front of the dais and it is
flush with the close edge of the platform.

On the back of this flat podium is a safety latch, made of thick wood
that serves as a lock in order that the doors not spring open
accidentally. I listened with a strange fascination as the
executioner explained the workings to us yesterday.

Directly above the trap door platform, three large beams jutted out
from the wall to form a triangle with its apex directly over the
center of the raised platform. Thick black bolts hold them together
and they obvious recess deeply into the far wall.

Projecting from the beam and sticking straight down from the apex is a
polished stainless steel rod that is two inches in diameter. The pole
extends vertically down to about two feet from the raised platform
directly over the center of the trap doors.

We had examined the platform and steel pole yesterday, but today was
different. Where previously nothing hung from the main apex, a thick
black rope now ran from a tie off point on the back wall, up a channel
in the center beam and appeared over the box. From there it hung
straight down and terminated in a perfect 8-loop hangman’s noose.

Julie had not seen the rope yesterday and I wondered how she would
react to its presence. It was about ¾ of an inch thick and while is
appeared soft, it also held its circular shape where it was tied into
a noose.

Behind the raised box, and against the back wall, is a large lever
with a safety cable. Above it on pegs are another metal grid with
straps and a black satin hood.

We are standing on the balcony directly across and at the same height
as the raised platform. I have been allowed to take the first
position and stand in the front. There is no access from the balcony
to the platform, nor the floor below. Our only exit is the door
behind us. Ten feet separate us from the elevated platform.

We have been standing here about five minutes. I know that being on
this balcony is one of the most desired tickets of the year. The
lottery for the media and state’s witnesses drew over 100,000
applicants. I am Julie’s only chosen witness.

I am watching the actions of an older man next to me when the noise of
a door opening draws my attention back to the right side of the
platform. Two hooded brawny male figures step through the door and
then to the side like members of an honor guard.

Julie then steps tentatively though the open door. Her face was flush
with the exhilaration of the event and the sudden realization of being
in the execution chamber with the bright lights and cameras. She
paused after a few steps and her eyes find me at the agreed spot on
the far right side of the observation platform. She raises her eyes
and gives me a meek smile.

Again she is not treated like a heinous criminal, but more like a
queen being led to the headsman’s block. She was trembling slightly
and was dressed in a long dark blue silk robe. As always, her make up
was perfect and her hair styled. She had red lipstick and a blue
eyeshade that matched the blue of her robe. The combination made her
blue eyes look even bluer. She had decided against wearing a
necklace, but, was wearing a pair of blue sapphire earrings I had
given her years ago. She is very visual and she had the back of her
hair tucked up and clipped with a blue metallic hair clip to make sure
the noose had no interference.

They had not restrained her in any way when they led her from the
holding cell to the execution chamber. She turned to face me as the
door she entered through was shut behind her. Everyone watched her
intently as she untied the waist tie of her robe. Smoothly and
gracefully, she let the robe fall off her shoulders to the floor.

As the robe fell, my eyes followed it. The room was silent but
charged with electricity. A few people made quiet gasps, for Julie
was naked from the waist up. She stood for a second as I gazed at her
beautiful shoulders and small pert naked breasts.

The only thing she wore was dark blue lace panties and laced top dark
blue nylons, held up by a matching garter belt. On her feet was her
favorite 4-inch high-heeled granny boots.

Slowly, on her own, she turned towards the door. One of the hooded
men reached for the fabrication of metal and leather straps. On
hearing it move Julie placed her arms as far behind her back as she
could and looked towards the top of the doorframe she had entered
through.

Together the two hooded men tilted her forward slightly at the waist.
She whispered to one of them as they placed the binding device on her
arms. It was built on a metal frame with three parallel bars that sat
vertically. Attached to it were three sets of black leather straps on
one side and three longer ones on the other. On the side facing away
from her body was a thick steel ring.

They adjusted her arms behind her back and carefully strapped her
wrists into the bottom of the frame. They let her move them a few
times to see if they were comfortable. Next they pinioned her arms
with the second strap just below her elbows. As she stood up, they
drew back her shoulders and then meticulously pinned her arms to the
frame above the elbow. Her arms made a perfect triangle with the top
being her shoulders and her wrists the apex.

The taller of the two executioners said something to her and she
turned to face us on the balcony. They took the first of the three
remaining long straps and ran it around her waist. They fed it
through a buckle and pulled it tight so that her hands were now pinned
firmly against her back.

Quickly the second strap was brought around in front up her and
cinched just below her breasts forcing them up slightly. The last
strap was place around her chest above her now quivering breasts.

When completed, the binder frame pinned her shoulders and arms back
and forced her to thrust out her chest. The straps acted like a frame
around her flushed breasts. She looked up at me again and attempted
another meek smile.

The hooded men now formally turned her towards the center of the room
and placed themselves on each side of her. As she turned, her eyes
fixed on the noose. Ten seconds passed before one of the hooded
figures gently nudged forward.

Slowly her boot skimmed across the floor. They let her take her time
to cross the 10 feet to where the podium was. She was noticeably
trembling, but she was holding her head high and the arm binders kept
the rest of her posture erect.

She stopped when she came to the riser. She looked down at her feet
for a few moments and then carefully put one foot up on the platform
as to test its stability. Slowly she transferred weight onto her foot
and stepped her other foot upon the dais. She then shuffled to the
center and turned towards us. She was almost sedate as she helped the
hangmen center her in front of the metal pole. The noose brushed her
face repeatedly as she was moved into position.

The large ring on the back of her arm binders was connected to a ring
on the metal pole. This kept her upper body in position. One of the
executioners gently held her steady while the other retrieve the
second binder from the wall behind the riser above the trap door
handle.

This binder was very much like the first one but longer. It tapered
slightly towards the bottom and the center pole extended above the
others. It had four black leather straps intertwined into the
stainless steel frame. In the center were four long stiff leather
leafs with metal guides on the ends.

While the shorter executioner held Julie steady, the other placed the
device against the back of her legs. This device was the connected to
the frame already restraining her upper body and arms near the point
were it connected to the vertical pole. The lower binding frame was
then connected to the pole below its companion.

She spread her knees slightly and the man pushed the four plastic
leaves between her legs. As if on cue, she put her trembling legs
together tightly and extended her legs as straight as she could.

The first strap was run from behind her, across her upper thighs,
through the ring protruding between her legs and then secured back
around the frame. It was cinched tight enough that it distorted her
garters slightly. I noticed her watching them with a look a
fascination. She twitched an arm as to attempt to readjust her scant
clothing.

The one executioner was still holding her arm as the other slowly
brought the second strap around through the eyelet a few inches above
her knees and secured it behind her. It slightly pressed into her
nylons, but obviously not in an uncomfortable way. She tried to bend
forward to watch, but the pole, and arm binders, held her erect.

The third strap was fastened below her knees just like the first two.
I thought that somehow she must be thinking that the colors went well
together. At this point she looked up and into my eyes almost to
confirm my thoughts. There was no smile this time.

The hooded man almost seemed hesitant to fasten the final strap. He
was working on his knees as he reached the final black restraint. The
fourth strap seemed to move on its own in slow motion. It was fed
around the top of her boots, through the center eyelet and the slowly
threaded through the back of the frame. There, it was secured like
the others.

Then he gently adjusted the binder. He looked up at Julie and said
something that must have been to ask if it was comfortable. She
nodded and mouthed a reply.

At this point, the man holding her stepped back as the other got to
his feet. With the binders secured to her and connected to the pole
she could not fall forward or to the sides. With her legs held rigid
against the lower brace it prevented her from bending her knees and
slipping down.

At this point even if she fainted, the metal and leather would hold
her posture perfect and erect until the doors below her opened and
released her downwards. Our eyes were locked and I could see a mix of
fear, excitement and wonder.

The men had stepped off the platform leaving her as the sole center of
attention. At this point, a woman who had been sitting on the right
side of the platform got up and approached her carrying a small pad of
paper. Formally, but gently, she said, “Does the condemned have any
last words?” and held the pad up where Julie could see it.

Her voice was quiet as she thanked those who had helped her in her
efforts. She apologized to the victim’s family and wished those she
would save well. Then she looked straight at me and said, “My loving
husband, thank you for supporting me. Without your strength and love
my journey and life would not be possible. Thank you for the
happiness we have had together. I know how hard this is for you. I
love you.”

Protocol prevented me from speaking in return. After a few moments of
silence the woman stepped back, looked at the two men and said,
“Commence with the execution.” The woman with the tablet then stepped
off of the box and moved about three feet away almost as if she was
afraid the rope would grab her too.

As soon as the woman was clear they walked up behind Julie. She was
slightly leaning her weight on the straps, but when she heard their
footsteps she drew up straight. She didn’t turn her head but looked
at each of us in the observation balcony.

Both men stepped up on to the platform one behind and to the left, the
other in front to the right. The man in front had a satin hood in his
hand. She knew what was next and first looked at the noose and then
at the face of the man holding the hood. She looked out at me and
moved her head forward into a position that indicated to the
executioner that she was ready.

He brought the black cloth up slowly and lifted it above her head. He
then carefully lowered it over her eyes and then the rest of her face.
He gingerly draped it so it covered her head down to the very top of
her shoulders.

Her trembling had returned and I could see her body blush red from all
the mix of emotions running through her. She was trying her best to
stand tall. But I knew at this point that the reality that she was
about to hang, and that there was nothing she could about it, was
overwhelming her.

The man behind her then moved back to where the rope was secured to
the wall. He undid a knot and freed the rope from a cleat. This
lowered the noose about a foot and one half. She didn’t seem to
notice as it touched her naked chest.

The man remaining on the box then took the noose in his hand. It
appeared that to him, now that the hood was on, this was just a
mechanical process. He was gentle, but she noticeable jolted as the
rope slid over the top of her head. He carefully worked it down below
her chin without the cord touching her face. She shuddered again as
he made it tight enough to stay in place, but, not so tight as to dig
into the hood.

Next he worked it up under he chin with the knot aligned with the back
of her head. While holding the rope just above the noose knot, he
motioned to the man near the wall to take up about a foot of slack.
He did and the other measured it. A few more adjustments to the rope
and it was taught with little play left.

The hangman remaining next to her said something to her too quiet for
me to hear and she weakly nodded under her hood. He then carefully
and slowly stepped backwards off the box and walked around behind it.

He kneeled where the safety lock was. Slowly, he pulled the wooden
peg out. Julie winced at the noise it made as it was pulled free. He
took the peg and put in on the floor underneath the large level near
the wall as Julie righted herself as tall as she could stand and
waited for the doors to open.

He now silently and quickly removed the safety cable holding the main
release lever in place against the wall. He now looked over to the
woman who had brought Julie the tablet. She nodded back to the
executioner.

My heart raced as I looked at my beautiful naked wife bound tightly
with the rope around her neck. I kept thinking of what it must be
like under that hood and what the wait must be like.

The hangman looked over at Julie almost as if he was unsure of his
actions. He purposefully gripped the coated part of the lever. Still
looking at her, he rapidly pulled the lever back.

I fixed on the doors as they opened. The two leaves didn’t spring
down as I thought they would. Instead, seemingly in slow motion, they
broke in the middle and each of her heels slid down the separated
inclines. Then her feet ran out of wood and stopped as the doors fell
fully open. She had only dropped about six inches.

As she stopped descending I looked up at her whole body. When she had
heard the lever move she had tensed up almost all the muscles in her
body. The binders did not give her much freedom, but I could tell by
how the straps were strained that she was trying to pull her legs up.

When the noose tightened, I could see her strain her arms
instinctively as she tried to reach for the rope. She had not fallen
far enough to disconnect from the support pole and I watched as her
hands waved back and forth. But, she was not strong enough to even
strain the leather straps that held her as she hung from the neck.

My eyes traced the rope up from her neck to the channel and down to
the wall. I worried it might break, she would be hurt in the fall and
that we would have to do this all over again. The rope was extremely
stable, except for a few vibrations in the segment between the gallows
and Julie.

 

[vadim69]

JULIE DANCES ON AIR
By Coiled Tesla 3
She had joked about dancing on air and her feet were alternately
contracting and extending like she was dancing a complex ballet. Her
body rolled much like that of a belly dancer even with all the braces
on her. Her breasts had become slightly squeezed between the two
leather straps almost like a leather bra. Her erect nipples bounced
slightly as she danced.

Her hips continued to rock back and forth and then it changed in a way
that I could only think that her feet looked like someone now doing a
tap dance with each foot oscillating up and down. I wondered if she
weighed enough to actually pull on the noose enough to be effective.
For a moment I wondered if they would have to leave her longer than
she had planned.

Her shoulders lurched up and down a few times. She only fought the
noose for about ten seconds. Then she started a series of tremendous
shudders. For some reason, I knew she was no longer suffering. She
had moved her hands into a submissive palms apart attitude and her
feet were no longer tapping but moving slowly up and down in unison.
The slow rippling of her body was all that continued. It was like a
wave of energy oscillating from her neck down to her feet. As the
waves passed through her, she strained against each of the straps in
sequence down her body.

Again, the strange image of this rope and gallows being the new lover
that would take her entered my thoughts. Her entire body had turned a
blush shade of red and was now rhythmically gyrating as if she was
making love to an invisible entity.

Less than twenty seconds had passed since the doors opened. For me,
time was both too fast, but, too slow. Her posture was still
exaggeratedly perfect with her small breasts thrust out and her head
held high. He skin was still smooth with no signs of sweat or strain.
I kept wondered if she felt the eyes on her.

I stared at the rope around her neck. Her chin was cinched, but the
rope didn’t dig into the hood as much as I thought it would. The
noose had tightened the hood enough though that I could clearly make
out her facial features. I could see where her mouth was still
closed. I could clearly see the outline of her nose was and the
impressions where her eyes were. I could see they were closed and her
face looked almost peaceful.

Then a new set of quivers came over her body. I recognized the
rhythmic pulses and I knew that she was having the orgasm she thought
she would have. It was very powerful and her head lifted slightly and
I could she that her facial expression had changed underneath the
hood. Again the image filled my head of the death machine being an
intangible lover.

Her twitching had created a small run in one of her stockings. One of
her garters had broken free and was flopping around. I wondered if
she could feel it since I knew she would want to reach down and
reconnect it.

Her feet both pointed down and she spread her fingers. I could see
her stomach muscles tighten even more than before. An extreme blush
color had spread from where the hood ended and down the front of her
chest and stomach. It made her red nipples a dark-cherry color. Her
arms were still, but her legs still pushed lightly against the bonds.

The contractions and tensing faded into small tremors. They were
still rhythmic, but slowing. Then she relaxed and finally I could not
detect any motion in her body.

Her body hung motionless for what seemed like eternity, but was really
only a few more seconds. The woman on the platform donned a
stethoscope and with one hand on the vertical metal pole for support,
placed the listening end on Julie’s now motionless bound chest. After
a few seconds, she motioned to someone underneath the balcony and a
curtain was drawn closed in front of those of us on the observation
deck.

My mind went black as a gentle arm turned me to escort me out. Then a
man was shaking my hand and trying to condole me with words of how
noble and brave we both were. The darkness continued to grow as I
exited the balcony and my comment : a beautiful story that could be perfect, but why should the condemned woman be so strongly tied and tied to the frame? You could just tie your hands behind your back. why such a perverse construction of the gallows. the sentenced could be forced to take off her shoes. maybe we will rewrite together and create a masterpiece

 

[vadim69]

Author​

derresser​

Genevieve's Final Ingredient [judicial/consensual beheading]​

1
It was a brisk morning, and Genevieve was walking to the market square, seeking out final ingredients for a ritual. She mentally went over items in the list as she pulled her shawl close around herself, including chicken blood, the hair of a virgin, eye of newt, her soul disconnected from her body, all the standard stuff. She was pulled away from her internal reverie though, by the harsh voice of the town bailiff.

“This young traveler stole from the Baron’s land, and you, good people of Rezan, will bear witness to her punishment. She will lose her head, now.”

Genevieve pushed through the gathering crowd to a scaffold that had been set up in the town square, and took in the scene. The traveler, a pretty young woman with dark skin, a curvy figure, and wavy blond hair, stood on the scaffold. Her hands were tied behind her back, and she wore a leather bodice that helped to accentuate her generous curves. She looked defiant and resolute as she looked out into the crowd, past the chopping block, basket, and coffin which would soon hold her. The bailiff stood on the scaffold as well, with the Baron, his wife, and a small number of town guards watching.

The traveler had obviously seen this happen before, or had been coached by the bailiff. Without much further ado, she reached up to her ear, pulled out a beautiful gold earring, and handed it to the bailiff, before approaching the block, and kneeling down. She went down to her knees, leaning her neck on the notch on the block.

“Please make it quick sir, and buy your wife something pretty with my earing. I know you’re just doing your duty.”

The bailiff then picked up his axe. He knelt down and brushed the travelers wavy hair off of her neck, exposing her long neck and beautiful shoulders. He lined up the shot with his axe, brushing the back of her neck with the cold steel.

“I’ll bring down the axe on the count of 5,” he said, as he slowly lifted the heavy blade away from the brown skin of her neck.

Genevieve pictured herself up there, her own plump ass up in the air, submitting to the bailiff. She had never been particularly attracted to the bailiff before, but wanted nothing more than to fuck him. Genevieve was pulled out of imagining the bailiff’s strong arms pulling on her hair to hear a countdown start.

“1……, 2……”

And at that, the axe came down. It was lightning fast, and made a solid thunk noise as the heavy blade cleaved through the traveler’s neck. Her head jumped forward, plopping into the wicker basket in front of the block. Blood spurted heavily from her neck stump onto straw as her body slumped forward. As the traveler died, the bailiff lifted her head from the basket, displaying it to the Baron and his wife. The Baron nodded, and smiled.

The traveler’s head was placed on a spike. Her body was buried in an unmarked grave, and the Baron and his wife forgot her within several days.

​