Death of a Princes © Old Nick’s Man 2005 Although this story is designed to shock, its content will be even more shocking when readers learn that all of the indignities suffered by Jess and her lover are based on actual punishments inflicted upon prisoners by European regimes over the past few centuries. Hanging, drawing and quartering was the standard punishment for treason in England for a surprisingly long time. Guy (or Guido) Fawkes suffered it following the gunpowder plot and it was routinely performed in public as a warning to other potential traitors. The removal of breasts and impaling of female prisoners was common in Central and Eastern Europe for centuries. There are certain countries where this type of punishment still continues – officially and unofficially - even today. ***** “Prisoners in the dock...” The Law Lord’s voice was slow, clear and cold. “You have been found guilty by your peers of the most heinous crime of High Treason.” Princess Jessica, the old Prince’s young wife, stood emotionless in the bright sunlight that flooded the court room. Her long blonde hair positively shone in the morning sunshine; her pale skin and slender frame giving her an undeserved waiflike appearance. Next to her stood the upright but badly damaged body of the man she had just been rightly convicted of taking as her lover. Guy had been cruelly tortured into signing a confession which had quickly led to their joint trial and now their joint condemnation. For the wife of a Prince, the taking of a lover was the ultimate act of treason, casting doubt on the divine lineage of the royal family and its succession. Such a crime could only lead to death! The judge’s voice was low and commanding. “For this, a most wicked crime, there can be only one punishment.” The Law Lord placed a black cap over his ludicrous grey wig and stared into the eyes of the two cowering lovers. “You will be taken from this place to the Tower, where you will be confined until your execution. At the appointed time, you will be taken from there to the place for public executions where you will be hanged by the neck until you are within an inch of your life.” Guy’s knees buckled underneath him as the words struck home. The guards held him firmly, facing the terrible judgment. “Your worthless bodies will be cut down while still alive and mutilated in the manner prescribed by the law.” Jess’ knees trembled at the thought of this, but she held herself upright and dignified. “Your heads will then be struck from your necks and your bodies displayed as an example to others. All this is to take place within 24 hours.” “But my Lord….” Began Jess. “Silence, traitor!” The Law Lord bellowed, then to the guard, ordered “Take them away!” The uniformed guards roughly dragged the two condemned criminals through the thick oak door and down the long corridor to the holding cell where, for a few seconds, they were locked in together. Alone at last, probably for the last time, they ran to each other’s arms. Guy winced as she hugged him close, the injuries from his hours of torture still acutely painful. “Guy!” Jess burst out. “I’m so sorry!” “Sorry for what, Jess? We fell in love. That’s all that we did.” “But if I’d been any one else – anyone at all – we wouldn’t be here now!” Guy laughed mirthlessly. “Trust me to fall for the wife of the Prince; the one person in the whole country with whom making love means treason!” The door burst open and rough hands pulled them apart, bundling them through the door and away to their separate cells in the Tower to await the morning’s terrible fate. ***** Dawn had broken over two hours ago. Jess paced the floor of her cell as she listened to the crowd’s cheering and calling in the square outside. She knew her lover had gone before her and that the horrible, heart rending sounds floating towards her were caused by the agonies he was enduring in full view of the populace. The sentence for treason was well known if seldom used – hanging, drawing and quartering. She felt sick in her stomach as she pictured Guy’s fit, athletic body on the tall wooden platform kept permanently in the square for the weekly executions. First he would have been stripped naked and publicly flogged until his back, legs and buttocks bled. Then his hands and arms would be tied behind his back, his ankles tied together and a noose would be put around his neck. He would be hoisted from the ground and hung slowly for as much as a quarter of an hour, kicking and wriggling until he was almost dead. Then he would have been lowered to the platform for the mutilations. These were ritualistic and symbolic, as well as being barbaric. First his penis and scrotum would be cut off with a knife and burned before his eyes to signify that he had failed to impregnate the future queen and to show that his loins could never produce more traitorous offspring. Next his belly would be split open and his guts cut out and burned to show that he and his kind were men of no bowels. His disembowelled body, still alive, would then be slipped under the guillotine to await any final, special torment the Prince determined as necessary for the condemned criminal, before the blade fell and severed his head from his body. The head would then be displayed on a spike above Traitors’ Gate and his body displayed either whole in the square or in quarters above the four main gates of the city until it had either rotted or been eaten by the crows. And then it would be her turn. Jess felt tears running down her cheeks as she heard the crowd’s roar and the smell of burning flesh wafted across the square to assault her nostrils. A short while later she heard the sound of metal sliding against metal followed by the biggest roar yet from the crowd as, she guessed, Guy’s head was held up to demonstrate that the execution had been carried out. They would be coming for her soon, she knew. Jess dropped to her knees and begged forgiveness. ***** Half an hour later, Jess was stumbling on the slippery cobbles as she was led through the crowd towards the high platform that made up the scaffold on which she was to be executed. Her hands were tied loosely in front of her and her ankles chained together. Her luxuriant blonde hair had been roughly cut short; her warm, French-styled dress replaced by a simple white shift through which, to her horror her body was clearly visible; she was barefoot. Jess raised her eyes from the floor to gaze at the scaffold. Surrounded by the drunken, cheering crowd, it stood a good twenty feet above their heads to allow those at the back to get a good view. It was a simple wooden platform with a rail around its edge, and a large beam crossing its width about eight feet above the floor. Ropes dangled from the beam. Jess saw to her horror that one of the ropes was a noose. Her noose! Her knees went weak and she slowed, but the soldiers behind pushed her roughly forwards. Minutes later, she was haltingly mounting the steps to the scaffold with a dozen lances pointed at her rear in case she thought to escape. She stumbled on the slippery stairs but quickly recovered her step as she reached the platform where the huge, masked executioner and his two equally heavily masked assistants awaited her. Jess looked around her in terror. The castle square was a sea of faces, all staring up at her. They were not friendly. The Royal Lord Chamberlain, in full dress uniform, stood at the front and, as the crowd was waved silent, began to read aloud the warrant for her execution. Jess couldn’t listen closely, but a few words did penetrate her fuddled brain. “…..for the traitorous crime of infidelity to the crown…….bringing hazard to the royal lineage…..showing no remorse…..justly put to death…..” The Chamberlain turned and handed her the scroll on which the warrant for her death was written. Jess didn’t even look at it; letting it fall to the floor by her side. She looked around again, and her legs tried to give way under her. She staggered, but was held firm by the executioner’s assistants. She raised her head from her chest. Suddenly she screamed in horror as she saw, to her right, the severed head of her former lover Guy high above the platform, impaled on a long spike. His eyes were dull and lifeless. Jess felt alone and friendless and very sick. “….so it is the will of God and his Majesty that I command the executioner to carry out the sentence this thirteenth day of September in the year of our lord,,,,,,” The Chamberlain stood to the side of the platform to ensure the sentence was carried out to the precise letter of the law and, Jess suspected, to watch gleefully as she, his hated enemy, finally received the punishment he had fought so hard to bring her. Jess hated the Chamberlain as strongly as he hated her. Her crime against him? Nothing but to catch the Prince’s eye more successfully than his own daughter had been able to do. It had been Jess that the Prince had wooed and married, not his own sweet Elizabeth. It had been Jess that the Prince had taken to his bed and whose virginity he had stripped away. But it had also been Jess who the soldiers had caught in the bed of the Prince’s young and handsome cousin, Guy. It was Jess who was now to meet her undignified fate in the full gaze of the low, beetling common folk. Jess thought bitterly that Elizabeth would probably have taken her place in the Prince’s bed before her own executed body had grown cold. Elizabeth’s virgin blood would have been spilled on the clean white sheets before her own blood had stopped flowing onto this coarse, wooden scaffold. The Chamberlain would have won after all. “Prisoner!” The executioner was grunting at her. “Prisoner!” Jess was dragged from her reverie and stared into his masked face. Terror began to spread through her body. “I am to carry out the sentence commanded by the law.” He sneered. “Do you have anything to say to me before sentence begins?” Jess knew what he wanted and had come prepared. Concealed in her hand was a small leather bag which jingled as she handed it to the executioner who weighed it in his palm. “I suppose it will do – if it’s really all gold!” He laughed. He stepped back to let the crowd see the prisoner properly. Jess stood meekly in the centre of the high platform. Her short-cropped hair shone like gold in the sunlight. Her white shift glowed bright. It looked almost as if an angel had landed in the midst of this scene of horror. The crowd fell silent, in awe. Jess’s chest rose and fell as she breathed heavily. The effect was suddenly shattered as, with a mighty tearing sound, the executioner tore Jess’ shift from her body. She screamed in pain and surprise and, realising she was now naked in full public gaze, tried to cover her modesty with her hands. The executioner barked a command and his two assistants grabbed her arms and, drawing one of the dangling ropes towards her, secured it firmly to her slender wrists. The rope was pulled and Jess found her arms jerked upwards above her head until her toes could only just reach the floor beneath her. In a vain attempt to protect her dignity, Jess bent her knees and tried to turn and hide her breasts, but to no avail. She dangled by her wrists from the overhead beam, her young, pale naked body exposed for the waiting and eager crowd to see. Her large, soft, young breasts swung freely, her large nipples erect in the cool air. The small pale triangle of blonde pubic hair excited much bawdy interest from the youths in the front few rows. Jess felt ashamed, more even than when the soldiers had burst in of her and Guy in the full act of making love and had separated their wet, sticky bodies by force. She felt light headed, but was brought back to full consciousness by the Chamberlain’s droning voice. “….for the avoidance of all doubt, as with thieves and fools, traitors must be branded so that the world can know their true nature……” This was something Jess had not expected. Something newly invented by the cruel, twisted minds of the Prince’s bodyguard. She looked wildly around her and saw the executioner standing at an iron brazier at the platform’s edge. The coals in the brazier glowed red as he poked them with a long metal pole. He pulled the pole out of the embers and, turning, walked towards Jess, his eyes fixed on hers. Jess could not tear her gaze away from the red hot glow at the end of the pole. Forged in the shape of the letter T, the heat emanating from it was intense. The executioner held it up to her face. Jess felt its scorching metallic heat close to her cheek. Her knees went weak and she pulled on the rope to support herself. The executioner leered at her horribly, holding the hot metal closer and closer to her cheek. Jess steeled herself for its terrible burning. One second later she screamed out into the crowd’s delighted roar as the executioner suddenly lowered the pole’s tip and pressed its red hot end into the flesh of her right buttock. There was a horrible hissing, crackling sound as her skin burned. The bolt of pain shot through Jess’ suspended body and her nostrils filled with the smell of her own burning flesh. She felt as if she would faint. The executioner held the tip hard against her skin until its forged end had burned its way deep into her buttock. Her burning skin melted onto its T shaped head and stuck firmly to its sides until, when he at last pulled the iron away, he was forced to tear Jess’ skin from it. Jess gasped for breath and the crowd cheered as the large T shaped wound was pointed out triumphantly by the executioner. She dangled by her wrists, her body turning slowly, her feet dragging on the wooden platform floor. How could it get worse then this? But Jess’ torment had only just begun. The Chamberlain was speaking again. “….suffer the prescribed punishment for whoring……..at the Prince’s command before suffering the punishment for treason………publicly flogged to the maximum of twenty-one lashes……” Jess could not believe the cruelty. She was to suffer not one punishment, but two. First the public flogging demanded as punishment for her adultery – as if she were a common whore – and only then the unbelievable cruelty of execution for treason. Before her mind could truly register the enormity of this, the first stroke of the whip drove the breath from her body. Rather than the long, leather bull whip used for condemned men, the executioner had struck her with a long, firm, straight horse whip in a powerful blow across her bare, unprepared buttocks. Her flesh erupted in a bright red wound, clearly visible to the watching mob, many of whom cheered and called out ‘one’. Almost before she could understand the pain, blows two, three and four fell across her buttocks leaving angry red wheals in their wake. The counters in the crowd kept pace as Jess’ brain struggled to cope with the rush of pain bombarding it. More searing blows fell on her buttocks and the backs of her thighs, robbing her of the ability to stand. She dangled from her rope and totally lost count as the sharp agony of strokes twelve and thirteen rained down on her lower back. As the last few stokes of the whip struck the tops of her thighs. So its shaft touched her naked vulva and Jess felt the terrible humiliation of feeling herself lubricate uncontrollably, small rivulets of her vaginal juices running down the inside if her wounded thighs. The executioner grinned and leered. He leaned over the whisper in her ear. “Never fails, my Lady! A true whore’s cunny always weeps to the lash!” He said triumphantly, as if this was the outcome he had sought from the beginning. As if to drive home the victory, he deliberately aimed the last two powerful strokes at her vulva from behind. Jess felt the sting of the whip on her fleshy outer lips and whimpered, no longer able to scream, her head spinning into unconsciousness. Finally, the beating stopped. Jess’ body hung by her wrists, turning slowly on the rope. The executioner turned her unresisting frame so that her back and buttocks faced the crowd. Her pale, soft skin was a mess of criss-crossed red lines and wheals from the backs of her knees to her lower back, The large red branded T shape was clearly visible. They cheered. One of the executioner’s assistants was commanded to unfasten the rope from its frame and as he did so, Jess slumped to the platform floor, her wrists and ankles still bound. A bucket of cold water was brought to her and splashed in her face. Jess sought to recover her consciousness, her back a screaming blanket of pain. Gradually her senses returned and she became able to understand the Chamberlain’s droning voice as, unemotionally, her announced the next terrible part of her torment. “…..punishment for whoring within the city having been completed, the sentence for treason will now be carried out…….” As she heard these words, strong hands grasped her arms and pulled them behind her back. She knelt forward, her chest on her knees as her wrists were bound tightly together at her waist and a strong rope tied her elbows together behind her. “….will be hanged by the neck to within an inch of your life……..” Her ankles were bound tightly together, as were her knees so that she could barely move, her body still kneeling, curled up on the wooden platform. A growling sound in her ear told her the executioner was speaking to her again. His voice, as always, was cruel and merciless. “All of them piss themselves when they’re hung. Most shit themselves too. Men spill their seed all over the floor. I wonder what you’ll do – my Lady!” Jess tried to control the trembling of her knees as the executioner slowly slipped the noose over her head and around her neck. He carefully adjusted the knot, mumbling as he did so. “….just a bit tighter…..don’t want it to slip….want it to hurt you, not kill you…” Jess felt the weight of the large knot on her shoulder as the man stood back to admire his handiwork. She felt afraid – very afraid – and tears began to roll down her cheeks. As a traitor she was denied the dignity of a hood as well as clothes. The crowd were to see every last second of her agony as a lesson to all that traitors would not be tolerated. The executioner nodded and his two masked assistants pulled on the free end of the rope. Jess felt it tighten around her throat as the knot found its position just in front of her right ear. It grew tighter and tighter, cutting off her breath - but then stopped as her head was twisted hard over to the left. Slowly, painfully, Jess was lifted from her knees to her feet, from her feet to her toes, then slowly she was hoisted bodily from the ground. The rope crushed her windpipe cruelly. She couldn’t breathe – no wait – there was a tiny bit of air getting through! Jess realised this was deliberate; to keep her alive for a long time for the crowd’s enjoyment. Now they were really enjoying it. Jess’ head felt as if it was swelling and her ears ‘popped’ but through it all she could still hear the cheers of the crowd. Jess felt her toes finally leave the floor and the full weight of her body was taken on her neck. Her back cracked noisily and her neck made a sickening crunching sound – but it didn’t break. She could still breathe just a little. Jess understood – she was slowly choking to death. Her lungs began to burn as she fought for air. A wave of numbness and a strange tingling came over her as parts of her body were deprived of life giving oxygen. Her face felt hot and burning and her tongue seemed to swell in her mouth as she hung suspended. Fierce prickling feelings spread through her arms, still pinioned behind her, and down her legs to her bound ankles. The feelings passed like a wave over her body and Jess began to tremble. At first, the tremors were like small twitches, but they soon built and built until Jess’ legs were kicking violently against the ropes that bound them. The crowd loved this, and cheered as the spasms pulsed through her. Jess’ arms tried to break free of their bonds too, but the executioner was an expert and the knots held her firmly. Huge spasms pulsed through Jess’ body as she hung, slowly turning on the rope. Her head throbbed and her throat swelled so she could gradually draw in less and less air. The more she shook, the more her throat swelled. The less air she took in, the more she shook. Jess felt her head was going to explode. A warm dark feeling passed over her as the air to her lungs, already burning hot, was cut off by the rope’s crushing force. As she began to lose consciousness, her sphincters finally surrendered and a small stream of hot, wet urine trickled down her legs, dripping off her bare feet onto the floor. With what little consciousness was left to her, Jess prepared herself to die. She passed out. Another cold splash of water in her face brought Jess back to her senses – or at least back from the dark depths of death. Through a daze, she realised she was lying on the platform, still naked; her hands still bound behind her back, but still alive. Her neck hurt more than she had imagined possible, but had not broken. She dimly became aware that the executioner’s assistant was busy fastening a long metal pole between her ankles. Iron shackles had been locked around her legs, which were now spread apart. The crowd had grown silent, unable to see the action on the stage, but eager to know what was to come. No woman had been executed for treason in this manner for generations. None but the executioner and the Prince himself knew what was to take place. As Jess’ consciousness returned, she became aware that the Chamberlain was making yet another announcement to the waiting crowd. His voice had lost its dull drone and was becoming more animated. ‘You’re enjoying this!’ Jess thought as she lay trussed on the wooden floor, made slippery by her own bodily fluid. “….. the womb that should have borne royal children will be defiled and destroyed as a lesson to all….” Oh God! What could that possibly mean? Jess felt a cold chill pass through her. Strong arms lifted her limp body to her feet. Her legs, still twitching slightly from the near-hanging, were unable to take her weight and she immediately collapsed. At his command, the executioner’s assistants each took one of her arms and braced her for all to see. Jess felt some feeling returning to her body. Her neck was all but broken and sharp spears of agony kept flashing down her spine. She waited and waited. The executioner smiled an evil, sadistic smile and crossed to a large wooden windlass at the edge of the platform. Taking one of its handles in his large, cruel hands, he began to turn the wooden core slowly around. Jess, her head lolling on her chest, couldn’t see or understand what was happening, but the crowd clearly could because they began cheering once again. Something brushed against Jess’ inner thighs and, to her horror, she suddenly realised that, between her legs, a wooden post was rising. She looked down and fear gripped her chest, robbing her momentarily of breath. The post was round, about six inches across, with a metal, cone shaped end about twelve inches long sharpened to a point. It rose slowly but inexorably upwards towards Jess’ vulva until its point nestled between her outer lips. It stopped moving. The executioner’s masked assistant took his place at the windlass and he crossed to where Jess was unsteadily standing. He dropped to his knees before her and, smiling a horrible, mirthless smile, took a handful of slippery goose grease and slapped it all over the sharp cone. The crowd cheered, egging him on; ready for a spectacle. Many of them had been waiting since the previous evening to get a good view of Jess’ execution and weren’t going to accept anything less than a good long show. “Just to make sure it slips smoothly in you!” He croaked. Jess squirmed and wriggled futilely against her bonds, but the ropes and the strong arms of the assistant were more than a match for her tired, beaten body and held her fast. The executioner slapped her across the cheeks. “Don’t even try and escape, bitch. You’ll never get away and anyway…” He indicated the large crowd surrounding the platform. “You wouldn’t want to disappoint your public, would you?” Jess’ legs turned to jelly and she collapsed again against her bonds. The bending of her knees brought her already sore vulva down onto the post’s sharp point and she winced, springing up straight again. There was a roar of laughter all around them. The executioner stood up from his greasing and waved to the assistant manning the windlass, very much like one used to hoist a ship’s anchor, who leaned against the handle. The windlass turned, the ropes tightened, the pulleys strained and the post began to move upwards once again. As it closed the last remaining inch of space between its point and her body on its slow journey upwards towards her waiting vulva, the cone’s point contemptuously pushed aside Jess’ fleshy outer lips, to force its hard greasy surface against the tender inner lips within. Jess winced with the shock of its cold hardness against the heat of her already ravaged flesh. The executioner paused the winding with a gesture of his hand and, returning to the post, bent low to check its progress. His hard, calloused hand pulled her labia apart so that they slid smoothly down the cone’s sides. “Don’t want you to be in too much pain, do we?” He sneered. “Well, not yet, anyway!” He waved to his assistant once again, who returned to the windlass, turned it slowly and the post began to rise again. Never the sweet virgin her parents had believed her to be, Jess had felt large cocks in her vagina before, but this monstrous invasion was simply unbelievable. The cone’s slow progress was, incredibly, almost pleasant as it began, stretching her hot inner lips wide in its slow progression, its smooth sides slipping easily into her, helped by her own flowing juices. Then she drew in her breath sharply as the cone’s size began to bite harder into her. As it rose and rose, forcing itself into her body, so her lips were stretched tighter and tighter, wider and wider until Jess could feel the tension, wire-tight between her thighs. Her body fought vainly against the metal tipped invader, refusing to meekly allow it to penetrate her, but its progress was simply unstoppable. After a minute, Jess felt herself being lifted bodily onto her tiptoes by the rising pole, her entire weight borne by the incredibly tightly stretched inner lips of her vulva and her trembling toes. It rose further and, as Jess’ toes finally lost contact with the ground, the pain shot through her like a knife. The crowd was beginning to warm up to the spectacle and were chanting sea shanties to encourage the masked executioner in his circular path around the windlass. As she rose yet higher, Jess wobbled on the pole’s conical point, her tied arms pinioned behind her, her weighted ankles dragging her feet downwards. At first she thought she would fall off, but at least six inches of the post’s sharp end was now wedged within her body and she was held firmly. The executioner paused the winding and the pole stopped rising. Jess tottered on its point, her legs flailing in the air a few inches above the platform, her vagina stretched agonisingly on the slippery cone. He crossed over to her and, placing his hand on her gag, looked to the crowd. “Off! Off! Off!” They chanted. The executioner looked left and right, taunting them. They chanted louder and louder. He placed his right hand on the straps at the back of Jess’ neck and flipped the gag up and over her blonde head. Free of its constraint, Jess gulped in the fetid air, then screamed helplessly into the roar of approval as the crowd cheered and yelled in triumph. Her voice, passing through her damaged throat, sounded like the cry of a wounded animal – coarse and inhuman. The extra movement of Jess’ body had an immediate effect on her agony. Her entire weight taken on her wire tight vaginal walls became simply too much for them to bear. With a gut wrenching, sickening feeling in her bowels, Jess felt her perineum suddenly tear. In tiny, agonising jolts, her skin began to part and her vagina began to open. Slowly, smoothly the pole’s point ripped her lips apart and reached deeper and deeper into her body, probing her depths, splitting her slowly open; tearing her flesh with every tiny step. Jess felt her toes once again brushing against the wooden platform floor and thought for a blessed minute that the pole had receded, until a new, unexpected and fiercely sharp pain in her lower belly revealed the truth – that she had sunk a further four inches on the cone. The cone was now almost ten inches inside Jess’ body and was stretching her vagina five or more inches wide. Seeing this, the crowd became thirsty for blood again. “Higher! Higher!” They chanted. The executioner smiled his terrible cold smile once again with a gesture of command; the windlass began to turn slowly. Jess’ toes were lifted from the floor once more. Her vaginal walls tore further and the cone slipped deeper into her. Through the agony of her impalement, Jess’ confused brain suddenly realised that the next step could be her last. When the rising pole had torn and stretched her vagina so far that the full six inches of its width could pass into her, there would be nothing to stop her entire body from slipping under her own weight, all the way down the poles smooth, greased length. Its point would be driven slowly right through her! Jess understood enough about her body to know that there were no bones or muscles strong enough to arrest its progress until it had reached her chest or her spine. It might even burst out through her breast, transfixing her. She screamed again and the crowd roared once more as she dropped yet another inch onto the cone’s huge width. The force of the cone’s progress drove Jess’ legs apart until the rod and chains attached to her ankles stopped them from opening any further. She felt blood running down her thighs from her torn vagina and perineum, and the pressure on her bladder built and built. She began to feel faint, her face burning to match the agony spreading from between her thighs. Suddenly she found she could restrain herself no longer and, to the crowd’s great amusement, began to urinate gently down the cone’s surface. She gasped as the hot urine stung her wounded vagina. Her body tensed and for a second, she felt her progress down the cone arrested – or at least slowed by her reaction. She tried again to tense her legs and pelvic floor. It seemed to work. She stopped sliding. “The little bitch thinks she can stop it!” The shorter executioner said under his breath. To Jess’ horror but to the crowd’s obvious delight, he grabbed a horsewhip and brought it down across Jess’ breasts with a force greater than any of her previous whippings. The pain was so severe that for a split second Jess could not feel the agony between her legs any more; she could only think of the searing pain in her soft nipples. Jess’ body tensed one last time, but she could not hold it any longer. Her body yielded, exhausted With a final, almost audible tear, Jess’ vagina split apart and the full six inch width of the pole burst into her body as the torn lips of her vagina slipped over the rim of the cone and onto its smooth shaft. The crowd fell silent as Jess screamed in agony and her ravaged body sank down onto the pole. Her progress was temporarily slowed as its pointed end first touched her cervix. Jess jerked upright, her knees spread wide by the huge shaft in her vagina. She jerked again, her chest heaving and trembling as the cone’s sharp point burst through her cervix and into her womb, tearing its muscles asunder as it forced its way through and deep into her. Jess felt an immense upward pressure in her belly and felt as if she would surely split open, showering the wooden floor with her wounded intestines, She looked down and saw her belly bulging outwards, her legs, knees bent, making her look like a grotesque swollen pink frog on a stick. Jess’ torn vagina tried manfully to hold on to the pole but it was no use. Her body slowly slipped down and down, the pressure within her belly growing stronger and stronger until her toes once again touched the floor. Jess’ legs were weak with the pain, but she managed to take just enough of her weight on her legs to stop her progress down the pole once again. The crowd booed in disappointment, clearly hoping that she would have been fully impaled at that moment, but the executioner waved them silent. Jess’ mouth filled with vomit as her body tried to adjust to the immense invading pole which twisted and tortured her innards. In her delirium, her mind filled with pictures of how much of the pole was really inside her. The cone had been at least a foot long, and when her vagina had finally torn to allow it fully in, her feet had been at least six inches from the floor. No! It couldn’t be true! She had taken eighteen inches of wooden stake into her body and was still alive! She waited for what would happen next, her mouth full of the sour taste of her vomit, her belly swelling with the pressure of the pole, blood streaming now from the place where her tight vagina used to be. The executioner secured the windlass in place and crossed to the weapon rack where he selected a long, razor sharp butcher’s knife. Jess’ eyes bulged in terror as he crossed to her, but she was too exhausted to react. The Chamberlain was speaking once again. Jess’ head was spinning with her pain, but his words were horribly clear. “…..breasts which should have suckled the royal heirs will be excised and destroyed as a lesson to all planning to commit the heinous crime of treason in the bedroom….” The leering executioner stood close to Jess’ side. Her eyes were wide and fixed on what little she could see of his ugly face. He took her left breast in his hand and fondled it slowly. The crowd shouted and laughed. He kneaded it harder with a similar result. He crushed it cruelly in his hand. The crowd roared again, and Jess felt the sharp stinging feeling. With a single smooth movement, the executioner brought his sharp knife upwards into the crease below Jess’ left breast and right through it, severing it cleanly from her body. Jess couldn’t breath. Her throat tightened with the shock, but there was very little actual pain. She watched her breast fall away from her body and felt the bile rise in her throat once again. The roaring crowd now screamed with delight as the executioner held her severed breast aloft. Blood seeped from the angry red saucer-sized wound in her chest. An assistant executioner quickly dragged the hot brazier in front of Jess’ impaled body. On its top was a metal bowl full of hot, glowing coals. She tried not to look into the bowl as, with dramatic ceremony, the executioner dropped her severed left breast into it. There was a hot hiss and steam arose as her flesh fizzled and burned. Jess closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable, her head spinning wildly, fighting to stay conscious. Her chest burned with the increasing stinging pain. She didn’t have to wait long. With a flash of his razor sharp knife, Jess’ right breast was also sliced from her body, held aloft, and with the same ceremony hurled down to join its partner in the bowl of coals. The air filled with the smell of cooking meat – oddly pleasant, Jess realised despite her agony. Then the acrid smell of burning filled her nostrils. Jess looked through dazed, delirious eyes at the darkening pink flesh in the red hot bowl and suddenly noticed to her horror that there was something else there too. Alongside the roasting meat of her own breasts there were, black and shrivelled but unmistakeable, the charred remains of a man’s penis and scrotum. Jess felt more sick than ever before. It could only be Guy’s penis and scrotum! Jess felt tears welling in her eyes. There before her was the beloved cock that had entered her body so many times! The balls that she had fondled and kissed and which she had one day had hoped would create a baby within her, were now nothing but hard, black shapes on the hot coals. Her head lolled forwards onto her bleeding chest. Seeing how close she was to the end, the executioner signalled to his assistant who lowered Jess’ body, still impaled on the pole, so the ground. The masked assistants held her upright as the fat, blood covered pole was slowly pulled from her vagina – or where it used to be – for as it finally left her tattered body, a gush of blood spilled onto the floor at her feet and dark red flesh hung downwards from the gaping wound between her thighs. The metal rod between her ankles was removed as the two assistants held her limp body upright. Her ankles were once again tied together, as were her knees and as Jess’ delirious mind struggled to understand what was happening, she was forced forwards onto a long, low table until her neck rested in the groove of a wooden u-shaped plank. A second u-shaped piece was snapped home over her neck and Jess dimly realised she was staring helpless through the ‘little window’ of a guillotine. There could be only one outcome now. And it would not be long in coming. Jess’ eyes opened wide in terror as she tried vainly to look around her. In the middle of the platform, side on the crowd, her damaged, naked body was clearly visible to all. Jess couldn’t see behind her but could hear the executioner and his men moving into position. In front of her was a white painted panel, with red stains that could only be blood – Guy’s blood – splashed over it. She couldn’t raise her head to see above her, but to her gut-wrenching horror, below her head was – and she nearly fainted when she saw it – a large basket lined with straw. Despite her exhaustion and pain, Jess began to wriggle and try to slide her head back but it was no use; the window held her firmly. She felt a movement behind her as her feeble legs were fastened to the guillotine’s frame. She could not longer move a muscle apart from her mouth, but was incapable of speech. The executioner had moved in front of her now. Jess waited for the command which she was sure would soon follow – the order to strike her head from her body. In her agony, she longed for it to come. But there was to be more humiliation first. The Chamberlain’s voice, now almost cheerful in his glee, announced her fate. “….his majesty the Prince has himself commanded that, before the prisoner’s traitorous head is struck from her body, she must perform in public the service she refused to provide him in private……. For a split second, Jess was baffled. But then the executioner moved to stand in front of her and slowly lowered his stockings. His horrible erect cock sprang out for all to see. The crowd screamed with glee. This was a totally new angle on public executions and they loved it! The executioner rubbed his hand lovingly up and down his gruesome erection. It was long and thick and unclean and was grotesquely twisted to one side. He grasped Jess’ hair in his right hand and jerked her head back until her neck jammed against the wooden frame of the guillotine. Jess gasped for air and as soon as her mouth opened, the executioner thrust his huge cock between her lips and deep into her throat. Jess gagged hopelessly, trying to gulp in air, but the head of his cock was jammed into her windpipe. She tried hard to breath through her nose and found she could just about manage to draw in a few gasps – just enough prevent her from choking to death. The crowd was now almost uncontrollable with delight. In the front few rows, several of the men had dropped their own stockings and were playing with themselves to the howls of approval of their neighbours. On the platform, Jess’ humiliation grew worse. With the breath entering her lungs came the foul, unwashed taste of the executioner’s common cock. It was foul and dirty and made bile rise in her throat. Once her abuser understood she was still alive, he began to thrust himself in and out of her mouth with great force. Jess’ mouth closed around his cock in the vain hope that if she gave him a good – not great - experience, he might treat her less violently, but it seemed that the more she tried, the higher his excitement became and the more he hammered himself into her. Jess felt the skin of her face burn with friction as his filthy, wiry pubic hair was scraped across it. His cock repeatedly blocked her throat, making her gag and her whole body jerk. He was moaning with pleasure, fucking her face as hard as ever Guy had fucked her vagina. Suddenly the executioner began to cum. Globs of semen burst into her mouth and he rammed himself deep into her throat, so far that Jess could not breathe at all. She began to choke, becoming fainter and fainter. With a final gesture, the executioner suddenly grabbed Jess’ head by the ears and pulled her towards him. His cock slid forcefully past her uvula and into her windpipe as above her, the heavy sharp blade fell swiftly and silently. The razor sharp blade struck the back of Jess’ neck with a force so hard and with an edge so sharp that her head was cleanly severed from her body without her losing consciousness. The executioner held Jess’ severed head by her ears, his erection still within her drooping mouth. He pulled his softening cock from between her still-warm lips and turned to present the severed prize to the waiting crowd. As he held her head aloft, the crowd roared in appreciation. Jess, still horrifyingly conscious but fading fast, dimly saw her own headless body lying against the guillotine’s window, the red stump of her neck protruding through, red and sticky, but bleeding surprisingly little. She heard the crowd’s roar in her ears as the darkness began to close in around her. The executioner turned her head back towards his flaccid cock and thrust it into her gaping mouth. The last thing Jess saw was the knotted mat of his pubic hair in her face. The last thing she felt was the head of his cock striking the back of her throat as he fucked her severed head until he came again, semen dripping down through her severed windpipe and onto the floor. The crowd roared its approval as the blonde haired, pale skinned head of the Princess was stuck on the end of a common soldier’s lance and hoisted upwards to gaze blindly down on the multitude. The spectacle was over. ***** Unseen by the masses, the headless body of the dead Princess was bundled unceremoniously into a plain wooden coffin and, as the many headed began to disperse, was carried by a back passage to the condemned cell. Once inside, the door was locked and the executioner removed his mask to gaze at his two young assistants. His face was even uglier uncovered than it had been with the leather mask in place. He lifted the lid of the crude wooden coffin and peered at its contents. Apparently satisfied, he leered at the two young men. “Go on then, boys. She’s all yours. I can hold off the guards for a good fifteen minutes, I reckon. Nobody wants to be with us so soon after a ….performance.” The two young men also removed their masks to reveal their own ugly, pock marked faces. “You mean…?” One asked. “I mean how many men have the chance to fuck a real Princess? Even a dead one? Only one man alive as we know has done that, and he’s the Prince himself! ” The young men’s eyes lit up. “Haul her out and see what you can find.” He pressed them. The three ghoulish men hoisted Jess’ headless corpse out of the box. “She’s still warm!” Cried the more hesitant of the two youngsters. “All the better for your cock, my lad.” The executioner smiled. Together they laid the girl’s body on the cell’s hard bed. Its stump of a neck rested just short of the pile of rags that had served as a pillow. “You do it like this!” The executioner grunted and, lifting Jess’ waist with one hand, he tucked her legs under her body with the other until her buttocks stuck up into the air. “Now don’t stand on ceremony, lads!” He urged. “The Prince’s men will be down here soon to hang her in irons from the portcullis. If you want her – take her now!” The taller, uglier assistant needed no second bidding. Tugging off his hose, his erection sprang forth and he leapt onto the bed behind the corpse’s soft white buttocks. He looked at the mess before him. “She’s all torn to bits, Master.” He moaned, and indeed where Jess’ tight vagina had once been was now a bloody mess of torn flesh. The executioner looked for himself and whistled long and low. “Looks like I did a more thorough job than I thought. Christ only knows how she stood the pain. Still, her ass looks alright. Try that!” Doubtful, the tall, gangly young man pressed his thumb against Jess’ anus. It resisted his pressure. He pressed harder, surprised that her dead body could work so hard against him. Only after a third, hard thrust with both hands did Jess’ sphincter yield to his fingers. He withdrew them quickly and thrust his long, hard cock into her rectum. It was dry and the friction burned him. He pulled back and, spitting on his fingers, rubbed saliva all over his cock. He thrust again and this time slid his full length into Jess’ dead body. It felt warm and tight, but of course there was no response from the executed Princess. The young man began to jerk and thrust into Jess’ body, pounding her lifeless anus with his swelling cock. Blood began to spurt from her severed neck onto the straw of her mattress and the rags of the pillow. More blood dripped onto his thighs from the torn and tattered remains of her vagina. Within seconds, he began to come, grabbing handfuls of Jess’ limp buttocks on his hands as he hammered into her, his face a mess of sweat and tears and lust. When he had pumped her rectum full of his semen, the tall, thin young man pulled him softening cock out of Jess’ anus and sat back. Her headless body slumped forwards onto its lifeless arms and semen dripped down the crack between her buttocks. Pushing his colleague aside, the shorter, less ugly assistant mounted the bed to take his place. He wriggled his hose down until his short, thick erection broke free and immediately jammed it into Jess’ gaping anus. He thrust wildly, the other two men having to hold Jess’ headless body steady on the bed to prevent him hurling it to the floor in his lust. In a matter of seconds, he too emptied his semen into Jess’ rectum, howling with spent desire as his body convulsed. There was a hammering on the door. The shorter assistant hurriedly pulled himself from Jess’ rectum and sprang to his feet. He pulled his hose upwards just as the Prince’s soldiers entered the cell, pushing the low, beetling execution team out of their way. Gathering Jess’ headless body and throwing it over his shoulder, the strongest of the soldiers spat on the executioner’s assistants. “Leave the stringing up to us, you animals!” He growled and, without a further word, strode from the room, the Princess’ decapitated body swinging down his back. The three executioners looked at each other and laughed aloud. ***** Jess’ body was cut into four quarters and a piece mounted on each of the four gates to the city, along with a piece of her former lover’s body. Their two heads remained on pikes in the main palace square for over a month until the ravens stole the last portion. The Prince spent many months alone, trusting nobody but the Chamberlain’s daughter and exercising his ‘droit de seigneur’ over the young girls of the kingdom with a dedication unknown for generations. Every bride to be for miles around was deflowered by the Prince on her wedding night until, blessedly less than a year later, he died in bed of a massive seizure brought on by lust. Jess had found her revenge.