UPDATE 30/10/21

Everyone looked around to see where this prisoner would emerge from and, to their surprise, found her escorted through the door from which they had just themselves come, a few minutes earlier. The final prisoner to face execution that night was a girl of fifteen with nicely-formed handful-sized breasts and a trim but soft figure which would have looked spectacular roasting on a spit but, of course, that was not to be! Her brown hair was tightly curled and just brushed her shoulders, the matching hair between her legs was soft and fluffy in appearance and neatly trimmed. In contrast to every other condemned prisoner that night she was not entirely bare, wearing a leather choker and dark eye-liner which accentuated her big green eyes. Arcane symbols were both cut and branded into her pale flesh and even slightly healed showing that she had either inflicted them on herself or had them marked upon her at least two days earlier in preparation for this, her final performance.

Also in contract to her fellows, she did not walk demurely between the red-robed guards but rather struggle performatively against their grip, hurling melodramatic curses at the audience, interspersed with wild fits of cackling! At first, some members of the audience recoiled in alarm but it quickly became obvious, both from the playful sparkle in her eyes and Skye’s amused grin that she was simply playing a part and giving it all she’d got!

“This daughter of Satan,” Skye declared from atop the steps which provided her a platform of sorts, “is guilty of one of the oldest and most heinous of all crimes, Witchcraft! And for her sins she shall be burned at the stake and her filthy soul returned to her Master in Hell!” The “witch” was at the bottom of steps now, still making a show of struggling to break free, calling down bloody retribution upon the audience. Skye gave her a discrete wink to wish her good luck as she descended the steps and stood to one side so that the guards could lead their prisoner up and secure her for immolation.

“For those executed in this way,” Skye explained in a loud voice over the cursing of the condemned witch, “two forms of mercy were permitted! The prisoner could be strangled to death when tied to the stake and their body then burned to deny them Christian burial, or a pouch of black powder could be hung around their neck which would explode upon contact with the flames, killing them instantly and cutting their suffering short. In more recent times, those burned to death as a public spectacle may have their insides filled with explosive liquid, incinerating them in an instant when the correct temperature is reached, or have their bodies smeared with fast-burning gel to ensure a quick, albeit painful death with minimal chocking on the black smoke that surrounds them. Thanks to the truly deplorable nature of her crimes, however,” she gestured up at the girl who was being tied to the central pole with her hands behind her back and ropes around her ankles, belly and neck, “our witch tonight has been denied any such mercy and will slowly burn to death before your eyes, just as the bodies of our earlier criminals,” she indicated the electrocuted pair, “shall be consumed by the flames!”

There was applause and even some whistling as the guards, apparently satisfied that the ropes were tight enough and that their prisoner could not escape, made their way down the steps then rolled them a safe distance from the fire. One then went to the wall and lifted one of the flaming torches from its mount then brought it to Skye. The audience, behind their safety rope, leaned forward eagerly to see what would happen next.

“For all our executions so far tonight,” Skye explained as she held the flaming torch aloft, looking like the Statue of Liberty in fetish-wear, “I have called upon one or more of you to act as executioner in my stead but for this final act of deadly justice, I shall perform the duty myself. Watch then,” she smiled her wolfish grin once more, the orange flicker of the flame reflecting on her pale face and in dancing in her eyes so vividly it looked as if they themselves were on fire, “as I use the fire to cleanse our world of this evil and send it to a place where eternal flames shall ravage her body and soul without mercy for all Eternity!”

Turning her back on the audience, Skye stepped forward, torch in hand, and looking up for a moment at the tightly-bound girl who was clearly in an intense state of arousal, as was she and likely all the audience. Carefully, Skye lowered the torch until it was horizontal and slid the burning end between some of the larger pieces of wood into the heart of the structure where the oil-soaked kindling to ensure a quick spread was located. Not wanting to burn her arm, she retracted it as soon as she heard the core of the pyre ignite then stepped back to just in front of the safety rope.

As the flames began to burst out through the gaps in the pyre and rise up towards to bound girl, she continued to rain down curses upon those who were witnessing her immolation. Very soon, however, she began to cough as the smoke burned her lungs. The flames were licking around her shapely legs now, scorching and blistering the skin.

The smell of roasting pork was already in the air from the girl-meat on the barbecue but in intensified now as the flames enveloped and engulfed the corpses of the beautiful blonde siblings, setting their hair on fire so they appeared for a moment to be crowned with flame before their skin began to blacken and crack, their fat melting, sizzling and popping as it dripped into the fire below.

The flames now reached the very much still alive girl’s knees and her performance of angry and hysterical ranting had turned to very real screams of pain. There was applause and even some laughter as the flames reached her waist and her neat tuft of brown pubic hair went up in a bright orange blaze. The flames continued their relentless climb higher, her legs now themselves burning rather than just being licked by the flames, her very flesh on fire. The tips of the flames caressed her lovely bosom for a moment before that very delicate skin began too to blister, the fat within them melting and leaking out her nipples, some dripping into the fire and more running down her body, providing channels for the deadly flames to rise further.

Even the screams had stopped now, the girl’s throat too scorched to make much sound and her lungs too full of deadly hot smoke to provide the necessary air power. Nothing below her waist was recognisable as a young girl any more, just black, burning bones turning to charcoal. The skin of her belly and once-lovely chest blistered then cracked. Finally, the fire reached her hair, setting it ablaze and giving her the appearance of a human candle. The “witch”’s face locked in silent scream as the flames began to consume it. As Tammy’s had before her, her eyeballs exploded as the liquid inside them boiled, red pulp filling her black-lined eye-sockets and running down her cheeks like the tears of a vampire for only a moment before this too caught fire and flames danced in the empty sockets and her open mouth like a grotesque jack-o-lantern. Soon there was no girl any more, just a column of flame. Skye turned and made a graceful bow to the audience who applauded wildly, cheering, hooting and whistling to express their appreciation for the horrible yet captivating spectacle.

“Thank you all so much for coming out and supporting us tonight!” Skye smiled genuinely this time, intentionally breaking character for the first time that evening, now that the show was over. “An extra big thank you to those who carried out the executions, those of you who are left, of course!” she giggled, eliciting affectionate laughter from the audience who were very well aware of the two young women who, having served as deputy executioners now served as macabre decorations on their crucifixes. The audience applauded the remaining volunteers among them. “Thank you to all the students and staff who have helped out preparing for tonight and as guards.” Skye continued, provoking more polite applause. “And of course to all our volunteers who gave their all for our entertainment tonight! Emily, Tammy, Tommy, Dinah, Joe, Marie and of course,” she gestured up at the blackened skeleton within and around which merry orange flames still danced, “our wonderfully wicked witch, Ronja!“ The applause this time was enthusiastic and genuine once more.

“Please enjoy the rest of your visit,” smiled the happy and relieved young redhead, “take all the photos you want! Your food and drinks are included in your ticket price but any additional donations you’d like to make would be very welcome. And so, good people, I bid you goodnight!” She took a bow to more rapturous applause and cheering.

Feeling hungry now that her work was done, at least for now, Skye wandered over to the barbecue which was being manned by teachers and parents from the various schools in the area.

“Great work!” her history teacher, Mr Goode, complimented her with a very genuine smile. “You’ve made everyone proud and we’ve raised more than last year already!”

“Oh awesome!” the preteen beamed. “Is there any Emily ready yet? I’m starving!”

“Almost.” the handsome teacher smiled then stroked his beard. “I tell you what, you go relax and I’ll bring some up to you in a few minutes. You’ve got two more shows to do yet and I know you’ll want to unwind and freshen up a little in between!”

“Thank you!” Skye exclaimed with enthusiasm and relief before slipping back into the building and up the staircase to her “dressing room.” It was small but comfy at least, even with a small shower and toilet facilities in the corner.

Due to the nature of the evening’s entertainment, Skye had known there was no guarantee that her costume would survive in one piece or unblemished enough to be used for the next performance and had therefore picked out three outfits, one for each show. There was the black corset and shorts that she now wore, a red latex mini-dress she intended to wear for the next, with matching Police-style hat of course, and the rather daring leather bikini she intended to wear for the last show of the night, since most of it was inside the well-heated building anyway and she could stand close to the fire for most of the time outside. Each outfit would be paired with the belt and boots, of course, and a fresh pair of fishnet stockings, or tights in the case of the bikini.

In the safety and comfort of her own little space, the boots were the first to come off and the pretty redhead was very happy to be able to wiggle her toes once more and put her feet flat on the floor. The corset and shorts were not far behind and she found that she had sweated under the patent leather even more than she had thoughts. Her perky preteen nipples tingled as they were released from their tight prison and the breeze from the small fan caressed them. Seconds later, her panties and stockings were off too and she stood as naked as any of the prisoners, stretching and relishing the feeling of freedom. She would need a shower before the next performance, that was for sure, before she wriggled her way into the figure-hugging dress. She realised she should probably do that now, before eating, so that her thick ginger hair would have a chance to dry and was just stepping towards the shower when there was a polite knock on the door.

“Just a second!” she called, grabbing her fluffy bath-robe from the back of the chair where her regular clothes sat in a heap. Quickly, she slipped it on before opening the door. As she expected, Mr Goode was stood there with a paper plate in one hand and a can of Coke in the other. It was a change to see him dressed casually, the top couple of buttons of his black shirt open and his hair, normally in a neat ponytail, loose and falling wavily around his shoulders. Skye and her friends had always considered him one of the more handsome teachers at the school, even if he was as old as her dad, but now she saw him in a whole new light and felt tingly all over, thrilled by the thought of having so nearly been caught naked by him and standing so close to him now in nothing but a bath robe.

“Here!” he smiled, offering her the plate and can, “even cruel executioners need to refuel between performances!” Skye giggled and took them, setting the can down on the makeup table and taking a big bite of the bun full of roast girl-meat.

“Oh wow! It’s delicious!” she gushed. “Thanks, Mr Goode!”

“Oh please!” he grinned, “I’m not your teacher here, call me Rob!”

“Not my teacher?” Skye asked, taking a second bite.

“Of course not!” he chuckled. “You’re the one in charge tonight and the rest of us are here to do your bidding!”

“Oh is that so, Rob?” she asked, liking the taste of the name in her mouth almost as much as the Emily meat. “You’re here to help me in any way I need?”

“Of course!” smiled the teacher, looking a little puzzled as the pretty redhead set the plate down then stepped around him to push the door closed, turning the key to lock them both inside.

“In that case,” Skye pulled on the belt of her robe, releasing the knot and allowing it to fall open, allowing it to hand open for a few moments, exposing her taught belly and plump, smooth vulva with its small wisp of ginger hair at the top of her cleft to her blushing but clearly intrigued teacher before shrugging it off and letting it fall to the ground leaving her entirely nude, “I need you to… No!” she grinned, “I order you to join me in the shower. Right now!”

The End