FOR SHELLEY

    I got the usual warning and was standing by the door as they led you into the courtroom. Our eyes met but I was not yet known to you. You saw an older man, fiftyish , almost six feet tall, two hundred pounds, gray , but still fit looking. I saw a fourty something woman, thin , brown hair , blue eyes, around five and a half feet tall, maybe a bit over one hundred pounds.  Your glasses were pushed up on your forehead as if you had been reading when they came for you. We would meet later.
    I followed you in and sat near you as the room filled for your case was being followed closely. We stand as the judge enters and instructs us to sit, all but you he amends. You and the two guards whom you never saw before today. I watch your reaction as he finds you guilty on all charges. The room buzzes but you stand as if understanding is beyond you. The judge asks if you are ready to hear the sentance and you nod dumbly. "Shelley Cox , It is the judgment of this court and it's order that from this moment on you are as a dead woman and that you shall be taken forewith from this place and transported to the place of your execution and there you be put to death by whatever means the executioner shall choose. May god have mercy on your soul." You may not realise it yet but he threw the book at you. By naming you as a dead woman he has shut off any appeals or mercy for you and you have no rights whatsoever. You now belong to me body and soul and soon we will meet for the first and the last time.  At his words you start to sink but the guards grab your arms and hold you. These men are mine and your death starts now. Working quickly they place a chain around your slin waist and cuff your hands to it. The cuffs of jeans you wear are pushed up and leg irons fastened around the tall boots covering your feet. A black leather hood is placed over your head and secured around your neck. As a dead woman you have no need for clothes and yours are cut off as you stand and the room full of people watch. The high collared shirt gives way to the blade and falls. The jeans follow and you stand in a black lace bra and matching french cut panties. My men admire the view for a short time and then relieve you of these last vestages of cover and you stand naked and shivering in fear. We lead you not out the door we entered but down the thru the courtroom and out the front door to the steet. The crowd pushes close and a few braver than most reach out and touch you, some in places reserved for your lover. Each touch causes you to flinch away and the sound of quiet sobs escapes from the hood. The fact that you have seen your last sunrise is sinking in and I can smell your fear. It is not nessary to use a car to transport you for the place of execution in this case is the raised platform built in the town square. A short walk but your last one. I spent the wee small hours of the morning making everyting ready and all that is left to do is turn on the camera feeds and get started with your killing.
   We meet at the steps and I go up and turn around to face you as my men remove the hood. What fills your vision is the place where you will kick out your life, a platform high enough to allow everybody to see your destruction but low enough for the lucky ones to get close. I watch as you remember me and realise who I am. Your eyes travel around and fail to find even one face that is not awaiting your end, no one at all who even pitys you. They are all here to watch you suffer and die. The steps are hard to manage with the irons and the crowd enjoys your stumbles and trips as you climb to your death. I lead you to the center and turn you so all may get a good look. Roars of approval result so I give them another look but this time I fondle your breasts for them and kick your feet as far apart as the chains allow that they might also see your most private parts. The shave job done in the name of health allows all to see the pouting lips and those close enough can also see the drops of urine your fear is causing to leak out. We remove the leg irons and your boots although I rather enjoyed that look. You are placed on a low table and your legs are pulled up and out so they form a wide shallow vee above your naked body and a bar is placed across your throat to hold you in place. A look of horror fills your eyes and you scream as you realise what is in store for you. Of course we will rape you, it is after all one of the perks of the office and one of my mens favorite pastimes. The velcro holding the removeable panel in the front of my pants ripps and my hard dick pops out. The crowd loves it and once again I'm glad that I have a decent sized unit. I put on the special condom we use and lube it with the athletic rub called fire hot. I rub some on and in you and am rewarded with almost instant cries from the burning. We use the stuff both to cause extra pain and to force the comdemed one to move for our enjoyment. There is nothing slow or gentle about my actions, instead it is all brutality and force and you react as I wish, with screams and cries and tears. I finish and my number two man takes my place but he forces his way into the small rosebud of your rectum and if anything rips even worse crys from your lips. 
By the time the last of the three of us finish you are reduced to a sobbing wreck. We end your rape be forcing your mouth open and dumping the contants of the condoms there  and wiping the fire hot on your lips. The burning of some of your most tender tissues soon has you going again and we need to do nothing to insure a good show. The fight soon tires you and we release you to sit and recover. A shot gives you new life and water cools your raw throat. The fire hot has left you burned and even the movement of air causes you to flinch in pain. Soon it is time to end your break and your life as you are now strong enough to provide quality entertainment.
   I lead you to a post set off to one side and as my helpers hold you I place a narrow nylon strap around you and the post. It passes under your armpits and crosses over your still lovely tits and I pull it tight. You squeal as it cut into the tender titflesh and I just pull it a bit tighter. There is a hook to prevent it from sliding down the pole so you are forced to stand tall to face whatever comes. What comes is a piece of heavy wire, solid but flexible and a short piece of plastic pipe. I place the wire around your neck , you gasp and 
beg no, no, no. Two twists holds it in place, the ends go through a hole in the post, and I twist the free ends around the pipe and all is ready. The preacher comes and offers you hope but you know there is no hope , just the wire and death wait for you. One of my men reads the death warrent and asks me if all is ready. I respond that all is ready and turn to ask you if you are prepared to pay for your crimes. The only answer I recieve is broken cries but it doesn't matter for it is all just for show. Just part of the act but you do not know that. We waste more time on various unnessary things to allow you more time to think about the wire around your throat and to wonder when it will be twisted still tighter. All part of the show but nobody notices. When I notice the crowd just starting to get restless I  start.
   As I grasp the handle to your soul and start to move it you struggle but there is no escape and when the air going in makes a squeeking sound I stop. Your hands are freed and you try to pull the wire away from your windpipe but there is nothing to grasp. You next try to reach the pipe that twists it but it is out of reach behind the post. You weeze and fight for air and you are getting almost enough, almost. The strap prevents your flattened tits from heaving but your slim belly pumps in and out and as it does it causes your pussy to move as if you were having sex. I add two more turns and the weeze changes pitch as you fight in earnest. Legs fail and nails scratch as your discomfort becomes agony and there is now not even close to enough air entering your aching lungs. The fight reaches a climax as your paniced efforts outrun your air supply. Still you kick and claw and wave and now you start to spray urine with some of your wilder kicks. Blood runs from the self inflected wounds and the wire tightens still more. You feel your wind pipe cave under the pressure and as it does grab one last small amount of air , enough to let you live just a second more, thats all you ask , just one extra second. The battle has ended and you have lost the fight for life but you don't know it and still carry on. The frantic efforts weaken and your arms become too heavy to lift, your legs hang twitching as you loose complete control and the yellow piss is joined by the contents of your ass. The hands grasp as if they are trying to hold on to your slipping away life but even their grip fails and with one last shudder your overstressed body just quits , you finally find the comfort of death and now hang quiet and with the stillness only the dead can achive.        lynn