Death Row Sex Workers

In a secluded woodland, far from the capital, there lay a special correctional facility. Not many people knew of it, as its existence was a closely guarded secret among the ruling members of the Polity. It was here that those deemed politically inconvenient were held and disposed of.

20 foot tall concrete walls topped with razor wire and automated high energy laser weapon stations surrounded the single 3 story brutalist bunker. There was a single entrance, a large, armor plated motorized door guarded by a crack security team and accessible only via keycard.

It was here that the ruling class devised a particularly sick and twisted method of capital punishment. With every influx of new prisoners, the staff would select the youngest, prettiest girls and boys for "Terminal Prostitution".

Each unfortunate youngster would be given an injection of nanomachines as well as a permanently attached neck collar containing various biometric sensors and an RFID chip. Then, the warden would set the "punishment", or in other words, the amount of times each prisoner would have to sexually service staff or visitor before the collar would send a signal to the nanomachines to release a lethal dose of Anatoxin-a, a very fast acting neurotoxin that killed by respiratory paralysis. Of course, the prisoners themselves weren't told of this. The staff would trot out some cover story about "being freed after reaching the required amount of service". The prisoners almost always bought the story hook, line and sinker. For the "customers", it just meant the service was that much more enthusiastic.

Marcela hummed to herself cheerfully as she walked down the hallway, a plastic bag full of tools in hand. Today was the day, she thought to herself as she pulled out her phone and checked the prisoner list. Prisoner #84727411 was due for her last customer. She tapped on the profile and scrolled through #84727411's bio. Caucasian female, blonde hair, age 10, daughter of anti government intellectuals. The warden had taken a liking to her, and had set the sentence to 200 customers. With the average being 30-50, this meant that paradoxically, one of the youngest girls in the prison was also the most experienced in servicing the men and women who often visited the facility.

She stopped in front of #84727411's cell. Marcela knocked on the door twice, then without waiting for a response, swiped her keycard through the lock and strode into the cell. #84727411 was lying on her cot, completely nude. "Hello, Laura", Marcela greeted her. Laura sat up. Marcela stood in front of the girl and unzipped her trousers. Without even waiting, Laura got to her knees, pulled Marcela's pants down, and began softly licking the older woman's pussy. Marcela wasn't in the mood for gentle foreplay today though. With a rough shove, she pushed Laura down onto the cot, set down the bag she had been carrying, rummaged through it, and extracted a large black strapon. The woman quickly put it on and straddled the young girl. Laura was a pro by now, and quickly spread her slim legs apart, her two slender hands prying open her slit.

With a grunt, Marcela placed her hands around Laura's neck and shoved her strapon deep into young girls pussy. Even after hundreds of cocks, Laura's cunt was still tight and pristine. Chalk it up to the facility taking care of its prisoners, at least for the duration that they were needed. The little blonde gasped as Marcela's hands tightened around her neck at the same time as the woman's strapon punched into her womb.
Admirably, Laura kept her grunts and gasps of pain to a minimum as the older woman mercilessly pounded and strangled her, even as her vision began to darken, and her head began to pound. Then, the hands released her neck. She coughed, and drew in a fresh lungful of oxygen with a grateful look on her face.

Marcela took off the strapon and threw it away, reached bag into the bag and withdrew two items. A motorized egg, and a little remote control. She inserted it into Laura's pussy as the blonde laid back, gasping and sweaty. The remote was programmed to activate the egg. It was also programmed to send the signal to activate the nanomachines, at the customer's leisure (there had been some premature terminations due to this, and the dual use remote was soon to be discontinued). Marcela wasn't so new as to make that kind of mistake, and flicked the egg vibrator on. Laura moaned as it whirred away. Marcela grabbed the girl by her blonde bangs and pulled her head down, pressing Laura's face against her bushy vag. She felt Laura's nimble little tongue lick and flick her cunt tenderly, felt the onset of an orgasm, and readied the remote once more. The woman pushed Laura's face deeper down, felt the young girl shiver as Laura experienced her own orgasm. Marcela then felt a wave of pleasure wash over her as she came immediately after.

As she basked in the warm, dozy post-coital glow, Laura looked up curiously from her position sandwiched in between the woman's thick thighs. "Am I free now?", she spoke in a soft, reserved voice, raising herself up and looking at her last customer. "Yes sweetie. You are free to go", Marcela sighed as she pressed the activation button for the neurotoxin nanomachines. The blue LED strip around Laura's neck collar flashed once, and the slim little blonde froze, her blue eyes widening.

Marcela looked on in fascination as the little girl began to shake and twitch, her convulsions rapidly increasing in frequency and violence until she fell off the cot and onto the cold concrete floor of the cell. Laura lay there, her mouth wide open, drool and spittle running down in strings from her chin as she shuddered and flexed, her muscles contracting and relaxing at irregular intervals. Tears ran down Laura's cheeks as her eyes rolled up. Her lips turned blue, her ribcage turning visible as her lungs tried and failed to draw in more air. As the minutes passed, Laura's thrashing only got more violent, until finally her body went rigid. A few seconds passed, a thin reedy sigh rattled past her pursed lips, then Laura went limp. A faint trickling sound reached Marcela's ear, and she looked down to see a pool of urine grow around the girl's butt as her muscles relaxed.

The woman knelt beside the body and placed a hand on its flat, sweaty chest. It was still warm, but she couldn't detect a pulse. "Nasty", she said to herself, impressed. "Remind me not to mess around with that stuff".

As Marcela pulled on her clothes, the cell door opened. The cleanup team arrived, carrying a plastic body bag on a cart. Two of the staff picked Laura's still body up from the floor and unceremoniously dumped it into the bag, zipping it up and carting it out. Just as quickly, the two remaining staff mopped up the floor, and tidied up the cot. Marcela took this as her cue to leave, which she did.