It was the Queen's birthday, and she always treated herself to a young man for her birthday dinner.
The Queen was waiting in her favorite room in her castle. It was the highest room at the top of the north tower, with a high ceiling, and tall thin windows. It's big thick wooden door was a step down from the room's main floor, across the room from the door was a huge walk in fireplace, and in front of the fire place was a three foot square solid rock table with several rings anchored into it's corners. The Queen's favorite chair was just behind the stone table, facing the fireplace. Other than that, the room had very little furniture.
As the Queen reclined back in her favorite chair, she watched the flames dance in the fireplace. The fire took the chill out of the air, and would be needed to cook portions of the Queen's dinner.
There was a knock at the door. The Queen ordered her attendant in, with her dinner.
The door opened, and a young pale blond was shoved in front of the fire-place. The young man was only wearing a tattered shirt and shorts. His arms were tied behind his back. Through his shirt the Queen could see the young man had well developed and large muscles. He was a little over six foot. The Queen's attendant excused himself, and left.
The boy was from a local village, but had been caught several months ago stealing from the royal coffers and had been sentenced by the Queen to life in the dungeons. Since the time of sentencing, the Queen had planned to have this well developed farm boy for her birthday dinner, and had looked forward to this day ever since. None of her subjects knew of her kinky birthday dinners-- they would be told the young man died from natural causes.
The Queen rose from her chair and walked around the young man. He had received special treatment during his time in the dungeons--he had been worked hard and fed well. As a result, the young man's body had developed even harder and larger muscles.
The young man looked down in bewildered shame as the Queen ran her hand up and down the young man's chest. Walking behind the young man, the Queen grabbed the tattered shirt and ripped it off with one quick motion. The farm-boy gasped in surprise, and struggled not to fall over.
The Queen walked around to the front and, while looking into the young man's confused eyes, she grabbed the farm-boy's balls and cock through his pants. The Queen was pleased at the bulk of the young man's meat, and smiled at the boy. This was clearly going to be a satisfying meal.
The young man didn't understand what was happening but was trying to be co-operative ... perhaps he thought if he did what the Queen wanted, he'd be set free.
The Queen released the farm-boy's meat and ripped his tattered pants off in one yank. The young man had to step forward so as not to fall over as his big balls and long, thick, farm-boy cock bounced about.
Again, the Queen smiled as she lovingly eyed the young man's genitals. When the Queen grabbed onto the boy's balls with one hand and his long cock with the other, the farm-boy started to offer the Queen what ever she wanted--if she would just allow him to go free.
Not wanting to hear the farm-boy speak, the Queen angrily shoved his tattered shirt in his mouth. Then, using one of the old pant legs, she tied the shirt in place.
The Queen led the scared farm-boy up to a side of the big block table opposite her favorite chair. She pushed the young man right up to the table, the tip of the farm-boy's cock just touching the top of the table.
The Queen kicked the farm-boy's feet apart until his cock and balls were laying on the top of the table, then the Queen tightly chained the young man's feet to the corners of the table.
Then the Queen attached a thick leather thong to the top corner of the table just to the young man's left, pulled it tightly over the farm-boy's round firm buns, and anchored it to the other top corner of the table on the boy's right side. This way his groin was firmly held against the table's edge, ready for the Queen.
The Queen tied a rope hanging from a pulley in the ceiling above the farm-boy, to his bound hands. Pulling on the other end of the rope, the young man's arms were slowly and painfully pulled up behind him. Once his hands were about level with his head, the Queen tied off the rope. The boy was whimpering in pain and fear. The strain on the farm-boy's body was evident by the stretched muscles and his red face.
The young man was really scared now and it showed in his eyes. But there was absolutely nothing he could do.
The Queen sat in her chair, opposite the secured farm-boy, and reached for his balls and cock with both hands. Grabbing onto the meat, the Queen pulled it out, and laid it out on the table. The Queen tied a piece of hemp tightly onto the head of the farm-boy's thick, `corn-fed' uncircumcised cock, pulled it off to the side and tied it there, out of the way until later. The Queen slapped it hard a few times, turning it a nice red, and drawing some minor struggles from the farm-boy.
Then the Queen tied a noose around the boy's lemon sized balls and pulled on them, forcing them into a tight red bunch. The Queen enjoyed hurting this farm-boy. She steadily pulled on the balls, watching the pain in the boy's face ... begging the Queen to stop.
The Queen anchored the rope holding the balls to a spike in the table. Putting her other hand on top of the farm-boy's balls, the Queen rolled them around on the table, feeling their heft. She then started lightly slapping the bound, reddening orbs. The slaps became harder and harder. The farm-boy could feel the pain in his stomach as he screamed into the gag, and struggled as much as he could.
The Queen just grinned and slapped harder and harder. The Queen doubled up her fist and pounded on the flattening testicles. After several more vicious punches on the balls the Queen stopped.
With a sharp knife the Queen slit the skin along the top of the tenderized and bloody balls. The skin pulled back, leaving the testicle meat exposed. The Queen shoved a fork through the middle of the left ball.
The farm-boy screamed hysterically and passed out. No matter. The Queen used the knife to slice the testicle in two, and ate the tasty meat.
Before eating the right ball, the Queen threw her glass of wine on the farm-boy's face so he could enjoy the pain. The Queen lowering her mouth to the still attached testicle, slurped it into her mouth, and chewed it while still attached. The young man passed out again as the Queen snipped the testicle free with her incisors and swallowed it.
The Queen removed the scrotum with a swat of the knife, and stretched it out at the side--to be tanned later and sewn into that nearly-finished scrotum-skin robe.
The farm-boy's large cock was freed from the hemp, and laid straight out on the table. By now the young man knew he'd never survive this day, but still could only guess at the grewsome fate that awaited him.
After gently massaging the uncircumcised `corn-fed' beauty, it began to fill with blood. The Queen laid the cock down on the table and rolled under her hands. She enjoyed the feel of warm cock meat.
Placing the tip of the knife at the root of the farm-boy's penis, and setting the length of the knife along the top middle of the length of the penis, the Queen looked up into the young man's wide eyes.
Slowly, she increased the pressure on the soon to be split cock. The farm-boy struggled wildly and screamed. The Queen started a slight sawing motion and broke the skin on the large cock.
Blood was freely flowing now, as the Queen finished sawing the farm-boy's cock down the middle. The young man struggled so hard his shoulders were dislocated, and his wrists and ankles were bloody.
Using a fork and knife, the Queen sliced the hysterical farm-boy's cock, quarter of an inch by quarter, savoring the salty taste of the fresh, bloody meat, chewing it slowly before swallowing.
The Queen sat back, and ordered her attendants into the room. They were ordered to free the young man from the table, remove the gag, but leave his hands tied. Then to lay the struggling farm-boy out on the floor in front of the fire, and shove the fire-place spit up the young man's ass.
The spit was slowly forced through his innards, into his esophagus, and out his mouth. The farm-boy's legs were tied to the spit. He was placed over the now only glowing fire.
There was not much fight left in the roasting farm-boy, as the attendant slowly turned the spit. The young man lived long enough to feel his meaty thigh's and big pecs slowly sliced from his browned and blistered body by the birthday girl.
Think that's far fetched ... well this story is real ...
Better 'N Rice, Mama
from three sides
The groom's side ...
It was a long deserted stretch of road. I was driving my Sweetie-Pi home. She lived with her mother and father and other relatives out in the back-woods.
Suddenly the headlights hit a man walking along the road. I slammed on the brakes and swerved to the far side. The man staggered and fell on his face. I didn't hit him but turned the van round and shone the headlights on him. He was sprawled across the highway.
"Be careful! It might be a trap!"
I looked the man over. He was drooling, there was a small pool of blood at his forehead. He was moaning.
My heart was pounding in my chest--it didn't look like a trap, but I couldn't be sure. I prodded him,
"My head. Oh, my head!"
"We'll get help."
Sweetie-Pi stretched out some blankets on the floor and then helped me get him to his feet. We walked him to the door and sat him on the door sill.
Sweetie-Pi got out the water in the car-repair kit we kept. She wiped the blood off his face. He looked about twenty, maybe nineteen, maybe twenty-two.
"No! No hospital!"
"We've got to get you help."
"No hospital. Just leave me here, in the grass. I'll be OK."
"We can't do that."
"OK, OK, no hospital."
"Kevin, we could take him to Mama's. She'll know what to do."
"OK. We're going to take you to my fiance's mother's. She lives out in the country--away from everyone. That OK with you?"
Sweetie-Pi got in and pulled at his shoulders while I lifted his legs. We slid him all the way in and closed the door. Sweetie-Pi stayed in the back with the young man.
I got back in the driver's seat, turned the van round and we were back on our way to her mother's. I drove faster than I usually do, but not too fast--nervous I might get stopped and then have to explain why we were headed away from town, away from any hospital.
I pulled off the road onto the long drive up to the house. It was a good half mile or more that took what seemed like forever to drive because of the ruts and pot-holes.
By the time we got to the house, the lights were on and Mama, Papa, and the rest of the brood were out to greet us.
Mama said in real-English,
Mama got some bandages then said,
I spent the next couple of hours telling the story of what happened over and over again in great detail--making up a few details I wasn't too sure of.
It was after midnight before Sweetie-Pi and Mama came out and joined us. Mama said,
For another hour or so I had to answer the same questions over and over again till I just fell asleep.
In the morning I checked in on the young man. His head and chest and hands were bandaged. He'd been stripped to his under-shorts--piss-yellow holey Fruit-of-the-Looms. He had been given a sponge bath and looked much better despite the bandages.
He didn't want to talk much, but did want to be assured that no one would report anything to the police. I assured him of that. Mama came in and shooed me off,
Time passed and I forgot all about the little incident. The day of our wedding came. It was a simple service with just her family and friends--and only a couple of my best friends. The wedding was out at her folk's place with a priest from her church.
Everything seemed normal for a wedding--the ceremony, lots of drinking and dancing, the cake cutting.
Then was the dinner. Sweetie-Pi and I were seated at the head table and dinner was something really special--candied yams and turkey and ham and leg-of-lamb and roast beef and collards and...and...and--all the good stuff you'd expect at a country banquet.
Every few minutes, Mama would say,
Everyone stood and gathered round to get a better look. When the maid stopped in front of Sweetie-P and me I suddenly recognized--it was the young man we had picked up off the road. Here he was all dressed like a maid and serving us desert.
As the man-maid slid the thing onto a plate and put it in front of me, Mama announced,
i was shit-faced drunk, walking out in the middle of no-where. It was my twenty-first birthday and my college buddies had gotten me drunk and driven me out to somewhere in the middle of the state and pushed me out. It was just a college prank. i'd been in on it with other guys. Years ago, they told me, they stripped the guys before putting them out. The object was to get back. That was our way of getting initiated into the world of adulthood.
i don't remember much about what happened, just this car coming towards me and i think i tried to get up and hail it down. i think i stumbled and fell face-first onto the pavement. As i said, everything's a blur about what happened. They tell me i insisted they not take me to hospital. i don't know why. That was the biggest mistake of my life.
i remember being in a truck or a van or something, on the floor, my head hurting like it was being sat on by an elephant and dizzy--you wouldn't believe how dizzy!
i remember someone carrying me into a room and a couple of Women there. They stripped me and washed me and bandaged me up. And then i slept.
When i woke up, there was this guy trying to get me to talk. My head was pounding and i couldn't think straight. i think i told him to get lost or something stupid like that. Anyway one of the Women came in and told him to get out and that was the last i saw of him.
Over the next several days my head cleared but i still ached a lot. i tried to tell the two Women i needed to get to a phone or get on my way or something. i told Them that i was a senior at the Embry Riddle and i had to get back so i wouldn't miss finals. But They just said i had to rest.
When They caught me trying to find a phone, They overpowered me and tied my hands and feet together and put me back in the cot. They waxed over my eyelids and blindfolded me and put wax in my ears so i couldn't hear.
Time passed slowly from that point on. And things got really strange. my mind began wandering all over the place. First there were all these fears of things--being abandoned, no one ever finding me, that sort of thing. Then my fears got wilder--being forced to walk naked through town, being made to stand naked as Women examined my body and then being put up for sale with other naked guys. And my dreams became wilder still-- being fed to the pigs, being crucified, being forced to fight naked for screaming women--like a gladiator at Chippendale's.
Every so often, i felt someone touching me, lightly wiping off my sweat, cleaning up my piss or shit. Every so often, someone would sit me up and let me sniff some chicken soup then sip it. I drank lots of chicken soup--and orange juice and water. Lots of fluids.
i really looked forward to the touch--the cleaning, the feeding. i learned to enjoy the feeling of a full bladder--enjoy it as it just started to make itself known--spend hours thinking of nothing else than my bladder as it became fuller and fuller till it started to burn.
Sometimes i would hold it till it felt like i would burst, burning hot, then let my piss go. Sometimes i would just let a little out then hold it--burning in my penis like liquid fire. Sometimes i would just let it all out at once.
i don't know how long it was, but my world had become nothing but fantasy and body. And the craving for the next touch, the next cleaning, the next feeding.
On several occasions i caught myself goo-ing and ooh-ing like a baby. What semblance of reason and self i had realized then what was happening to me--i was in the womb being reborn. i began looking forward to that day.
i started expecting a sudden jerking away of the blindfold, the wax popping out of my ears, the strips of cloth tying my wrists and ankles together falling off. i expected something dramatic, like a real birth. But that didn't happen.
Instead, it was gradual--over several days. First there was a lot of stroking and washing and petting. Hands were all over me for what seemed like hours at a time.
Later, the wax was taken out of my ears and a Woman whispered to me. She said,
Now everything revolved round Mama. I kept saying in my mind, 'baby is nothing without Mama. baby only wants to please Mama.' I elaborated on it, 'baby will do anything for Mama.' And i really meant it.
When the blindfold was finally removed, light filtered through the wax on my eyelids. It was dim but bright at the same time. Just light, no movement, no image.
Then the wax was pulled off. The light was blinding. It took several minutes before i could see anything but blurry lights and shadows. The light started flickering and my vision started to crystalize. There was a single candle burning, flickering. And there was the most beautiful Person in the whole world--Mama!
She was everything to me. my whole world. i started crying, whimpering 'Mama' between sobs.
She cut the cloth straps holding my wrists and i wrapped my arms round Her and held tight. i rubbed my face against Hers.
That was when i felt my beard. i let go and turned my face away, crying.
She turned my face back to Her and asked,
i was so happy i started crying and holding Her tight. She held me tight too.
There was a big baby pen--one big enough for me--and She had me get in it. There i stayed for the next i don't know how long when ever She wasn't in the room.
i learned all over again how to hold my water and bowel movement, how to walk, how to talk. It was easy but hard--not as automatic as you probably think--more a relearning.
As i was learning, i wanted to be more like Mama. Not only to please Her but to be more like Her. i started hating my genitals--not because i had ever seen Mama naked, but because i knew inside i was different from Her.
One day i asked Her if she would cut them off for me and she said it would make Her very happy to do so. So She did it that afternoon.
She told me it would hurt but it would be over soon and i would make Her very happy if i could take it without having to be asleep. i was afraid, but i told her i would be brave.
With two of Her sons helping Her, Mama had me strapped down to a table real tight--my wrists and ankles tied to the four legs, my thighs and arms tied down, even straps over my belly and chest to hold me in place.
i was getting more and more afraid--all those straps meant it was going to really hurt. i started to cry and She patted me on my forehead.
She told me what She was doing all the time. She had one of Her boys stretch my cock and balls as far away from my body as they could stretch then She wrapped some wire round the neck real tight. Then She got a screwdriver and put it between me and the wire and gave it some turns to tighten the wire really good and tight.
it hurt--there was a sort of fire in my cock and balls. my cock felt really hard--like it was going to burst. i whimpered and she patted my head for a few minutes,
She took a straight razor and grabbed my cock and balls. i could barely feel it, they were so tingly numb by now. She said
She held up my cock and balls so i could see them. They hung so loose and droopy it was hard to think of them as ever having been a part of me. i tried to study them but She put them in the ice bucket and then took them out of the room.
Her two boys followed Her and i was all alone. There was no pain, just icy cold numbness down there. i was happy She had freed me of that disgusting thing and felt so proud and happy as i let myself drift to sleep.
When i woke up, there was an aching down there--nothing really bad, just an aching, like someone was standing on my balls--which weren't there any more.
As the day passed, my bladder was getting full and i tried to pee but couldn't. After a while, my bladder was really full and it hurt really bad and i was crying.
When Mama came in, She asked,
"i gotta pee-pee!"
"Oh! I'll be right back."
Over those few days, i learned how to control my bladder so i didn't dribble pee all the time. It wasn't that hard to learn--there was just no back-up if it started to leak--i couldn't stop it after it left my bladder.
A few days later Mama began teaching me how to dress and be more like her. i wore high-heels and stockings and panties and a really short maid's dress with a padded bra and a little maid's cap. i shaved my face and body three and four times a day and talcum powdered all over to hide the stubble.
Mama taught me how to do all kinds of things to please Her. She taught me how to scrub toilets and wash windows and wash dishes and floors and clothes and make the beds and dust and all sorts of things. i was very happy to do anything to make Mama happy. it made me happy to make Mama happy.
Then came time for Missie Sandra and robert to get married. Mama told me She was giving me to missie Sandra and i was to do anything She wanted me to do. i was very sad about that, but Mama told me that it would make her very happy for me to become Missie Sandra's maid. So i decided to be happy with it.
Just before the wedding, Mama told me what She was going to do-- have me push in the desert tray with my cock and balls cooked for robert to eat--so he would have lots of boys for Mama. We practiced. i was very happy i was such an important part of the wedding. it made me feel important.
When Mama made the announcement,
Everyone was so happy and pleased at my gift--at Mama's gift. They oohed and ahhed as i served them to robert and Mama said,
i was so proud and happy. it was the best day of my whole life.
I was real happy when Sandra and Robert came driving up with that injured boy. Their nuptials were coming and was thinking I was going to have to use one of my own sons for the fertility ceremony. That's what I had to do when Sue-Ellen got married and I didn't want to have to do it again.
When I got married, my Mama made the special meat dish for my husband so's we'd have lots of sons. It worked, of course--we had nine sons and two daughters. Her Mama had given Mama's husband the same gift when they were married--as had her mother and her mother before that. It's a long tradition from the old country.
I was especially happy to find out he was a strong young buck--and a smart one--a college boy, on the football team. The better the meat-gift, the better the boys born because of it. Quality makes quality.
Sandra knew, of course, what I had to do. That's probably why she insisted Robert bring him here. I don't think she wanted one of her brothers to be sacrificed, though she never did like John-boy and I think she would have picked him if she had to.
So when they got the boy laid out on the bench Sandra and I shooed the menfolk out and stripped him down and tended to his wounds so's he'd recover quite nicely.
When we pulled his pants off and his unders, Sandra and I both knew we had quality here. Sandra fondled it to feel the weight of the cock and the balls, rolling the balls over in her palm.
The boy was starting to come to and moaned, so she dropped them and started wiping his forehead with hydrogen peroxide. We then gave him a sponge bath all over and bandaged him up and put his unders back on-- yellow stained as they were with his piss and all.
Sandra and I turned off the light and went out into the open air and made the plans and then we went in and went to bed.
Later, when the boy was feeling frisky, he tried to wander off so that's when I had him tied to his cot and started the training. It's the same method I used with Joe-Mack when I had to train him for Sue-Ellen. It's better that the old ways--something I learned about reading about brain-washing and sensory deprivation experiments during the Korean War.
We just wrapped the guy up in nice soft cotton, waxed over his eyes and ears and wrapped his eyes with a bandage so the wax wouldn't fall off and let him rest. I kept cleaning him up and feeding him chicken soup and giving him selected stimulation--to make him very dependent on me. Then after a few days, I took the wax out of his ears and started talking to him--training him to think like I wanted him to.
It's real easy. After a few more days, I started taking off the bandages so he could see. I kept the room real dark so it wouldn't blind him and made sure the only person he saw for a while was Mama.
And, sure enough, just like with Joe-Mack, he decided all by himself he wanted to be rid of his thing. That made it a lot easier to train him after than if he didn't want it.
We wrapped it tight with wire so's it wouldn't bleed and cut it off nice and neat and I sealed him up with a hot iron searing the wound. Then when he had to piss the next day, I poked a hole in his bottom so it would spurt out. That way, the piss washes out the small wound and it doesn't get infected.
Then I started training the boy how to become a girlie-maid for Sandra. He took to it real easy, eager to please me and eager to dress the part.
The rest is history. We practiced how he was to serve the meat for a couple of days so it would make a good show. Then the day before the wedding I thawed it out and marinated the testicles in home-brew and stuffed the penis with a mince-meat I made with bull's and stallion's testicles-- following my Mama's recipe. It stuffed out to a good eight inches long and four inches around. And the testicles weighed in at two and a quarter ounces a piece--really large ones.
Robert was startled and red faced when he saw what he had to eat with us all standing round, urging him on. I think he might not have done it except for the training Sandra's been giving him--how to obey and not question--she's a good trainer.
There was lots of drinking and laughing as he forced most of the sausage and one of the balls down. Sandra let him off of having to finish it off by eating the other ball and the rest of the sausage herself.
Since the wedding, they've set up house in the spare bedroom and are making plans on building a house on the property--about a half mile to the south.
The maid-boy has been working our really good--cleaning up the whole house and doing the dishes and everything. I'm going to miss him. I've been thinking of having Sandra and Robert get me another one so's I can have a new maid-boy--the one my own Mama gave me died about four years ago.
Sandra's expecting--seven months in. The sonogram says triplets --all boys. You can't tell me folk ways aren't the best ways!
If you will be allowing your male out of
confinement -- to have a job or other mixing with non-scene people, we require a
consensual waver. Otherwise, your property is your property. It is our job to
break him -- all the way to the core of his being. He will never question you
Serving Chicago and surrounding states since 1963. If we cannot break your male to your satisfaction, we will take him in exchange for one we have broken -- we are that sure of your satisfaction.
hanged males left till the next day for your assurance of death
coming this spring -- shoot outs with live bullets (one kill per show, shows every hour; during the Easter holidays, two kills per show, one show every half hour)
The Ladies' Execution Committee
Imposition of the death penalty is usually big news nationwide. Always sure to produce debate -- every branch of the press makes certain that it gives all capital trials extensive coverage. That is, except when the place in which the trial is held happens to be rather off the beaten track, and so they do not learn about it.
One such remote city, high in the mountains of ... never mind which State -- we do not wish to spoil the fun ... does not bother to announce to the rest of the world its capital trials.
Not that the guilty -- sorry, the accused -- prisoners are not given a fair trial the State Defender is an excellent lawyer -- equally as good as her twin sister, the District Attorney. And their mother, the judge, is renowned for her impartiality and sagacity. With one of the most successful police forces in the country -- led by another family member. This all makes for a happy and safe community life.
Any attempt to disrupt this harmony is treated with immediate and severe action by the police and the courts. Those very few murders which have been committed in the area within living memory have all been solved with dispatch. It is unfortunate, however, that violence has not been entirely eradicated from the local prison. It is equally unfortunate that this violence between prisoners too often results in the death of one of the inmates.
Even though these prisoners have, by their actions in committing crimes, demonstrated their unsuitability as members of normal society, they are still human beings and the murder of a prisoner is investigated as thoroughly as if it had been committed outside the prison walls. For this reason the vast majority of capital crimes which reach the court involve prisoners who have murdered fellow inmates. These trials are held in the prison and -- in order to protect the good citizens -- publicity is discouraged.
Once the trial is over and the accused have been found guilty, the judge may consider requests by citizens to conduct the executions. This practice produces valuable revenue for the local government and executions are awarded to the highest bidder. Bidding is restricted to female members of the community, and most winners are wives of prominent professionals or businessmen in the district. The prisoner is taken to Death Row, which in this case is a large building that can be equipped for almost any method of execution yet devised.
Dick Low had not killed his cell-mate. Every prisoner knew this. Dick was tried, however, together with nine others, for the offense and received the mandatory death sentence. It was patently unjust and unfair, but Dick was powerless to do anything to save himself. He knew that his cell-mate had been killed by the guards -- just like every other prisoner who had died since Dick was convicted of petty theft two years previously.
It was common knowledge among the inmates that the prison governor had a quota of capital trials to supply. As in every previous case that Dick was aware of, ten prisoners were convicted of the murder either as perpetrators or accomplices. Dick and some of the other accused men, had wept unashamedly as the sentences were announced, but now they were trying valiantly to put on a good face and to prepare themselves to accept the inevitable.
What had not leaked out of Death Row into the rest of the prison was news of the various methods which were used to execute prisoners. The law stipulated that every execution must be attended by the prison governor, a senior police officer, the prosecuting and defending lawyers, a clergyman and at least six eligible citizens. Such requirements were easily fulfilled without bothering to broadcast the fact outside the immediate community. So the sentences would be carried out, and nobody who was not involved would be any the wiser.
On the ground floor of the Death Row building were two dozen cells. Each of the ten condemned men was placed into one of these cells. The cells afforded a good view of the main hall, and so the prisoners would be able to watch the executions of others as they awaited their turn. All of them would be able to watch the preparations, which was often a more harrowing experience than the execution itself. The cell doors were locked after the prisoners were divested of their clothes. They were ordered to shower and then the guards left.
The ten naked prisoners watched with a morbid fascination coupled with increasing apprehension as the specifications of the ten winning bidders were carried out. None of the men knew which bidder had selected which method of execution. Nor did they know in which order they would be executed. All they did know was that their leave to appeal was denied and that sentences would be carried out the following morning. With that terrifying knowledge the ten condemned men sat trembling in their cells.
During the afternoon and evening the hall was prepared for the ten executions. Against one wall a pile of sandbags which bore the evidence of numerous previous bullets was straightened and set. There was a conventional gallows, or so it appeared, an electric chair, and other assemblies, tools and implements which meant nothing to the horrified prisoners watching the preparations but which appeared sinister to their frightened eyes.
Above the cell block was a mezzanine floor with a balcony. From here the official witnesses, invited guests and the winning executioners would be able to watch the proceedings. One by one the prisoners were taken from their cells for a physical examination. The guards were rough, but did nothing that every prisoner had not grown accustomed to. The sadistic guards sated their lust with strapped on dildos in the prisoner's anus or mouth, accompanied by a belting or a few slaps and punches.
Of course, except for a few token show-pieces, the guards were all female. They were all large for women and extremely powerful -- more than a match for any man in a fair fight. But the prison situation was never fair -- and in interrogation or punishment, every male was outnumbered several to one.
Then the prisoner was returned to his cell to find that a screen had been dropped to cover the front. Dick found out the reason for this when he was pushed through the barred door. Two women sat in the cell waiting for him. One was elegantly dressed, late fifties and typically overweight. She was Mrs Jenner and had won the right to select and control the manner of Dick's execution.
The second woman was in a police uniform, early thirties, slim, fit -- and obviously as hard as nails. She held a cattle prod in full view and opened with a warning that she would not hesitate to use it if Dick did not behave.
What happened to Dick was fairly typical of what each of the condemned prisoners was put through that night. Dick, ashamed in his nakedness, first had to parade around the cell while the two women eyed his firm young physique.
He was a little slow in kneeling when instructed and felt the cattle prod against his anus lips followed instantly by a searing jolt. The police woman's warning was repeated and Dick, shaking even more than before, knelt in front of his lady executioner.
Dick was ordered to bend forward and to kiss Mrs Jenner's toes which peeped through her open-toed shoes. This was new for Dick although the guards had made him lick their boots on many occasions. After soaking the nylon stockings on both feet, Dick had to stand.
For two hours Dick suffered the ignominy of having first one, then both women probing and groping at his body. His inability to become erect resulted in a heap of derision being thrown at him. When he was told to masturbate, and his penis remained soft, the police woman threatened him with the cattle prod again. Try as he might Dick could not generate any sensual thought and he meekly bent forward when instructed to accept the prod.
The police woman pushed the device right into Dick's anus -- which had not yet recovered from its earlier dildo-rape by the guards. He waited, bent forward at the waist, legs shaking, for the jolt.
Mrs Jenner held Dick's head and stroked his face lightly, like a mother comforting her son, cleaning off the dirt after a fight. She was ugly and her looks worsened as she smiled. Dick tried to smile back but she revolted him and he could not disguise the fact.
When the button was pressed and the voltage slammed into Dick's rectum, he was thrown forward into Mrs Jenner's lap. She held his head between her thighs and started to rub herself against his face. The smell of her crotch was unlike anything Dick had known and his stomach roiled.
The prod remained in his rectum and he waited for the next jolt while trying to ignore the foul smell and disgusting actions of his executioner.
Suddenly Mrs Jenner cried out, a little squeaky sound, and she relaxed. She still held Dick's head, so he could not escape the smell.
Then he felt a damp warmth across his face and Mrs Jenner urinated through her panties and hose. Dick dare not pull away and he had no choice but allow some of the putrid urine into his mouth.
He was totally humiliated, more so than by any previous actions by the guards, and for the first time he actually wanted to die.
By the time the two women left his cell, Dick had suffered the most debase treatment imaginable. Mrs Jenner had removed her underwear and Dick had been forced to wash it in his mouth, sucking the urine and vaginal mucus from the fabric. He had lain on the floor while Mrs Jenner squatted over him and he had to tongue bathe her equally foul smelling anus. The police woman had rammed the cattle prod in and out of his rectum, getting deeper and deeper and occasionally firing a jolt of electricity into Dick's bowels.
Mrs Jenner, as this was going on, fondled Dick's genitals and tried to tease an erection out of him. This failed and made her angry. Her hands clawed and twisted his penis and testes while Dick remained as still as he could, crying and whimpering -- his hands firmly behind his neck from which he was too scared to move them. He had been made to urinate over Mrs Jenner's bare feet and then lick them clean. Next, he had to clean the prod with his tongue, licking off his own mucus and feces, after which it was used by both women to stimulate themselves. Finally he had to clean the prod again.
Dick could not sleep; the sounds from the other cells indicated the feeling was universal. Most of the prisoners, Dick included, received visits from guards or friends of the governor during the night. Rumor had it that a condemned man craved sex so much that he became an exceptional and insatiable lover. Dick's visitors did not seem disappointed at his lackluster performance -- at least they had derived their own satisfaction from the encounter.
In the morning the screens were raised and the brightly lit hall was a flurry of activity. Above the cells, the viewing gallery was filling up. The clink of coffee cups could be heard along with odd whistles and clicks as the sound system was tested.
The governor's voice echoed around the hall. She thanked her guests for coming and handed the microphone to the judge for the official announcements.
The judge opened by confirming that the panel of witnesses was complete and complied with the requirements of the law. She thanked her twin daughters for the professional way they had handled their parts in the trial, her other daughter, the police chief, for the speedy and efficient conduct of the investigation, and finally she, too, thanked the guests, especially the winning bidders, for their valuable contribution to the official coffers.
Then the governor returned to the microphone and announced the manner and order of the executions. Dick found himself number ten -- last -- and was to be garotted. Dick did not know what that meant but it sounded brutal and did little to help his efforts at composing himself. Dick was determined not to give these evil people the satisfaction of seeing him beg or disgrace himself again -- he would approach his unjust execution with as much pride and self esteem as he could muster.
The woman who had successfully bid for this prisoner went through the motions of checking that he was securely tied. This was no more than an excuse to run her manicured fingers over the shivering tightly held prisoner's body. Expressing her satisfaction with the restraint, she inspected the rifles, stepped back to the victim and stroked his taut ass once more, then returned to the safety of the viewing box and gave the instruction to proceed.
She had previously instructed the three woman firing squad and they knew exactly what to do. The first volley thudded into the sand bags right next to the prisoner's face. This led to an hysterical outburst of screaming and crying from the distraught prisoner. He was permitted to settle down before the woman nodded her assent for the second fusillade. That, too missed the target, as did the next three. By now the prisoner was babbling and squirming up and down as much as his tight restraints allowed.
The next shots rang out and the bullets splattered into the prisoner's upper thighs and buttocks. His screams were now a different timbre and blood was oozing from the jagged wounds.
The seventh and eighth volleys effectively cut through the prisoner's thighs and into his genitals. Bleeding was quite heavy and so the woman gave the order for a pause.
She then stepped up to the wailing young man and painted a white spot on his back -- right in line with his heart. The young man was weak and hung limply by his wrists. One leg had been completely amputated and lay on the floor. The other leg was barely connected to his torso.
The woman returned to the gallery once again and gave the order. This time the three bullets landed exactly on target -- the white spot instantly turning red with the spurting blood.
The young man went rigid and then slumped into death.
The second man would be hanged. He struggled less than the first although he did avert his eyes as he walked past the blood soaked body of the first young man to be executed.
The woman watched intently. The prisoner's legs were moving up and down as though he was riding a bicycle. His feet were flexing, his fingers and toes opening and closing. The young man's eyes bulged and his tongue protruded from his gaping mouth. For many minutes the prisoner struggled to breathe, but then the effort became too much for him. His whole body-starting at his lips and his extremities -- adopted a bluish tinge.
He was still alive but had little strength left. The woman reached across to touch the trembling body as it dangled in space. Her hands stroked the prisoner's face and neck around the rope. She caressed his flaccid penis which began to dribble urine, then to let go with a gush, much to the woman's squealing delight.
The young man died as his lungs became too starved of air to feed his brain. If he still had any sensation as he passed out he would have felt the woman, his lady executioner, tweaking his nipples and kneading his testicles.
The executions went on throughout the day. The electric chair was used twice. On the first occasion the prisoner was strapped quite loosely. Three electrodes were connected to his right arm, another three to his right leg. Finally one was clipped to his right nipple and one to the foreskin of his flaccid penis. When the power was applied it was done so slowly. As it increased in intensity the prisoner began to jerk around as he sat.
His bizarre dance became more and more animated as the prisoner's body leapt and squirmed around, the loose straps affording a good deal of movement. Smoke could be seen from around the electrodes. The clamp on his nipple burned right through the tender flesh and fell off. It sparked as it scorched the prisoner's torso while his involuntary display of stationery athletics continued.
In short order the prisoner had fainted, after which the full voltage was applied to stop his heart. The poor man's right limbs were severely burned. The thumb and big toe -- to which electrodes had been attached -- were gone -- as was the prisoner's penis, now just a charred stump. The body was left in place until the chair was needed again, then two guards ripped off the electrodes, unstrapped the corpse and dumped it unceremoniously onto the floor.
The second prisoner to be electrocuted had to step over the inert body. In addition to the burns, the violent movements which the electrical current had generated in the prisoner resulted in severe bruising all around the strap locations and his left arm was at a weird angle, suggesting it had broken.
This time the prisoner was strapped down tightly. The electrodes were placed to create an instant heart stoppage when the power was switched on. Other electrodes, however, would restart the heart when the correct power was applied to them. A dozen times the prisoner's heart was stopped by a massive jolt of electricity, and a dozen times his heart was restarted.
After each stoppage, the lady executioner watched with a big grin on her face as the prisoner remained conscious, though his heart no longer was supplying his brain with life sustaining blood.
When the prisoner's eyes began to dim, the order was given for the revival jolt. This restarted the prisoner's heart, after which he was given a few minutes to recover. By the time he was about to receive the thirteenth high voltage application, the prisoner was a nervous wreck.
As with each of the previous twelve times, the lady executioner counted down from ten before the switch was closed. This time, though, the prisoner was not revived and his body was left slumped in the chair.
Dick watched all of the executions. Something drew him to them, even though he knew that eventually his turn would come. He was horrified at the cruelty of the proceedings and at the obvious pleasure these women executioners were getting from their evil pursuits. It was clear to Dick now that the whole affair, from the regular murders to the sham trials was simply a method to supply these evil women with young men to abuse and murder -- just for their own entertainment.
Another prisoner was for the firing squad. The corpse of the first victim was not removed from the sandbags. The second prisoner was suspended by his ankles from the same rings as the dead man's wrists. His wrists were then lashed to the same rings as the dead prisoner's ankles. One of the dead victim's legs had been cut off completely by the bullets and lay on the floor. The new victim was resting against the cold dead body, his face just under the groin which had been destroyed. He was sobbing uncontrollably by the time the woman and the guards returned to the safety of the firing position.
Once again the early bullets were intended to increase the terror of the condemned man. After a few volleys missing completely, the next few were used to sever both legs at the upper thigh. With no support the prisoner fell forward, his legless body now lying on the ground facing upwards. Another two volleys followed and the expert marksmen inflicted more severe injuries without killing the screaming victim.
The lady executioner called a halt to the firing squad and went over to the dying man. She stroked his face and scooped up some of his fresh blood from the wounds. She looked into the crying man's eyes and licked his warm blood, smacking her lips affectedly. The prisoner was left to die in abject pain and despair as the other executions were carried out.
As he did so, the winning bidder, a skinny woman in her sixties, was
explaining to the prisoner what was happening. The prisoner's head was
completely immobile and his body was so tightly strapped to the table that he
could move only his fingers and toes.
Dick watched the prisoner's terror while the guard slowly poured the destructive chemical into the young man's alimentary system. Soon the pain started to hit the condemned man, but the tube prevented him from crying out and the straps denied him any movement.
The prisoner's fingers clenched and unclenched. His toes flexed and curled. Those were the only movements the prisoner could make. The lady executioner was explaining to him how the chemical was now reacting with the prisoner's natural internal acids to become even more corrosive. They were now attacking the membranes of his intestines and would spread back to his stomach. As they ate through his intestinal walls the acid would attack the other organs in his abdominal cavity.
She told the prisoner she estimated that he would remain alive for at least a half hour until the acid destroyed his diaphragm and reached his heart and lungs. Her guess was pretty accurate -- the prisoner's hands and feet suddenly went rigid thirty-five minutes after the execution started, then relaxed.
He was dead. His body was carefully removed and dropped into a tub of water for later disposal. The lady explained to the surviving prisoners that this was her version of the gas chamber. The real thing, she said with an evil grin, was nowhere near as much fun.
Two more prisoners were hanged. They stood on stools and the ropes were tied to overhead pipes. The stools were removed and the prisoners left to suffocate slowly. As they did so their lady legs splayed blond executioners were petting and groping at the young men.
One woman got two guards to hold her man's feet apart -- which also took some of the weight off his neck. She tried valiantly to masturbate the prisoner but failed, so she pushed a cattle prod into his rectum, taped it in place and also taped the button down. The guards let go and the watching dignitaries were rewarded with an unusual display of rope dancing.
The activity was visually entertaining but the prisoner died fairly quickly.
The other man was left alone by his woman -- except for a continual caressing and stroking. She ran her fingers along the entire length of his body, kissing his fingers, nipples and genitals, lightly scratching his legs and feet. She stood on the stool and kissed his face, sucking the prisoner's tongue which protruded from his slightly agape mouth. His eyes were wide with terror and he was revolted at the ugliness of the woman, but he was helpless to alter his situation or fate. He passed out with the woman's leering face close to his, breathing her halitosis onto his sensitive, flared nostrils.
One prisoner was killed with a single bullet. He was strapped face up onto a low table. The winning bidder wore a loose gown. She lay on top of the immobile prisoner and pushed the sides of her gown over the two edges of the table. She was naked under the gown and rubbed her wrinkled body against the trembling prisoner -- a smooth, muscular and hairless young man.
Unable to produce an erection from the terrified man, the woman started to stimulate herself. She bucked and squirmed on top of the disgusted prisoner until her orgasm approached.
As the woman screamed out in ecstasy, the guard fired into the prisoner's ear. The bullet was a low velocity 0.38. It had sufficient power to enter the skull but then not enough to exit again. It ricocheted around the brain cavity, destroying the gelatinous brain matter as it slowly lost speed and power. By then the man was dead -- his brain so badly destroyed that it could no longer sustain the essential functions of life.
After the woman had recovered she swept out of the hall to change back into her normal clothes, to the loud applause of those watching from the gallery.
The penultimate execution was also a hanging. It seemed, though, that this prisoner, unlike the previous victims, had been persuaded by his executioner of the sensuality of death -- it helped that she was younger than the other winners, in her late thirties, elegant, slim and with an eeriness some might call beauty.
She led her victim to the rope without the assistance of the guards. He appeared to be going willingly to his death. He stepped up onto the stool as directed and allowed the noose to be placed around his neck. Dick was amazed to see that the prisoner was not restrained in any way -- no wrist cuffs, no ankle ropes.
With the rope tight and in position, the woman kissed the condemned prisoner. He reacted passionately and his penis, which had been flopping around in its semi flaccid state, grew.
Her hands roamed over the prisoner's body, scratching his nipples, fondling his growing penis. The prisoner responded but still kept his hands by his sides. This was quite an effort and once or twice he raised his arms as if to embrace his executioner. A quiet reminder and he dropped them to his sides again.
The woman was sucking and kissing his member and Dick saw the prisoner's eyes close in what looked like ecstasy.
Dick assumed that the woman must have promised the prisoner that he would be cut down before dying, or something like that to elicit such cooperation. The prisoner fidgeted a little at the end of the rope but still made no attempt to release himself or relieve the increasing pressure against his windpipe. The young man's body started to pale, then go blue as his brain restricted the flow of the decreasing supply of oxygenated blood to itself. He could be seen heaving in a vain attempt to inhale, but by then the rope had completely blocked off his air.
The prisoner's fingers were moving constantly, his arms pulled against his body, then flayed out a little. His legs bent slightly at the knee and straightened -- all of theses actions seeming in slow motion.
Dick watched the hanging man's feet rotate at the ankle as if in exercise. The long toes flared apart, then closed together, curled back then down. He was close to passing out, Dick could see, when the woman squeezed his testicles and the jerking of the dying man's penis evidenced an orgasm.
He slumped into oblivion -- his final act that of an exquisite climax. The woman got up, showed the cheering crowd the remains of the semen in her mouth before swallowing it. She slapped the corpse's buttocks and walked jauntily back up to the gallery to rejoin the others.
It was Dick's turn. He had witnessed the previous nine executions which had done nothing to alleviate his terror and hopelessness. He was determined to die well, though, and he walked into the hall with his head high and a look as close to defiance as he could muster.
Mrs Jenner greeted him with her ugly leer she passed off as a grin. Dick was ordered to sit on a wooden chair with a high narrow back. The guards strapped his wrists to the chair arms and his ankles to rings in the floor.
Mrs Jenner sat on Dick's lap, her face right in front of his. With her foul smelling breath wafting over him, Mrs Jenner explained what a garrotte was and how Dick was going to die.
As she talked the guard pulled a thick rope around Dick's throat and pulled it through a hole in the back of the chair. She pushed a rod through two loops she made in the rope and twisted. This tightened the rope against Dick's neck.
As the guard twisted slowly, gradually restricting Dick's breathing, Mrs Jenner rubbed herself against her victim's body, especially her genitals into his.
Dick closed his eyes and willed himself to die soon, but Mrs Jenner had other ideas. She wore no underwear and her dampness felt sticky against Dick's unexcited genitals. Mrs Jenner roughly twisted one of Dick's nipples when he started to close his eyes again and rubbed herself harder against Dick's slim young body.
The rope tightened until Dick's breathing was labored. He started to faint, but the rope was loosened a little and he was able to drag in a few shallow breaths before it tightened again.
Mrs Jenner played with her victim for close to an hour. Just as Dick felt that he was, at last, about to die, the rope slackened just sufficiently for him to recover a little. And Dick could not prevent himself from inhaling as soon as the opportunity presented itself -- he might wish to die, to end this vicious nightmare, but his body had other ideas. Only after Mrs Jenner had climaxed did the rope go very tight and remain so. Dick faded into oblivion with the leering face of Mrs Jenner pressed against his.
The executions had taken all day. A buffet dinner was served in the gallery while the guards cleaned up. All of the bodies would be disposed of in the prison incinerator. The law had been satisfied, the local treasury enriched and the wives were satisfied -- which was good news for their husbands. In a few weeks another prisoner would be murdered, another trial held and ten more young men would be executed. It is a never ending tale which will never leak out from our community.