Setting Sun

Capitan Alejandro Gabriel Guerrero took a long drag of smoke of his freshly lit cigarette, standing around him were his men, members of the 41st Waffen SS Armored Division "Espana". He and his men were finishing up anti-partisan in the ruined city of Portsmouth, serving as a garrison force while the rest of the army was proceeding with Operation Sealion.

The long planned invasion of the British Isles was underway, a costly and deadly affair that was going to cost many of the Axis powers manpower and material. The Capitan and his men served in the the Italian component of the invasion, who were tasked with the taking of the critical port city of Portsmouth, a pyrrhic victory at best, but it did herald the end of the British Empire, a sun that was forever setting, much like how the Spanish Empire had in the 18th century.

His men had just completed a makeshift gallows, they did not know why, they were only going to execute one person today.

She was currently standing in the middle of the gallows, tight hemp noose already around her neck. She had long disheveled burgundy red hair. There was slight bruising on her face, a result of her violent capture. Her aquiline nose had been broken, her despondent Emerald eyes staring deep at the Capitan's soul, her round and circular glasses had spider cracks on the lenses, her oblong face cast into a despaired mold, luscious lips frozen into a permanent frown.

She was topless, her pale freckled skin marred by dirt and ash. Her cute and developed perky breasts drooping down, jiggling as she shivered in the cold. Her pale pink nipples stiffening.

She wore only a skirt, legs and feet uncovered. The skirt was torn off enough that one can see she was bereft of panties, her light pink pussy lips flowering.

She was a very beautiful young lady, a genetic hallmark to the Celtic goddesses that roamed these islands before the Anglo invasions.

She was likely only 16, a member of the Boudicans, a partisan group consisting mostly of teen girls, their fathers and brothers dead or retreating behind the frontlines fortifying in London, their mothers likely dead since all of them served in the Women's Home Guard which were bombed and shot to oblivion from Stuka aircraft and battleship shore bombardments. British beauties each and every one of them, deprived of hope and innocence, only seeking the blood of their cursed invaders.

A pity.

Alejandro was her age when he first fought, back in the Civil War that tore apart Spain. The dead look in her eyes was eerily familiar.

He did not know why he was making a spectacle of this, there were no civilians to witness it, most of them had fled. Portsmouth was now a military city inhabited by a hungering war machine. Her fellow Boudicans were shot, their cooling corpses piling up outside Division Espana's camp, their still perfectly serviceable nubile bodies being used by the men who had no other recourses for their pent up stresses.

He climbed up, still smoking his cigarette, the dead girl in the making staring at him.

He offered her his stick.

She looked at it for the longest time, the hate in her eyes palpable.

She accepted in anyway as he placed it in her soft pale lips, she took a drag out of it like a pro, inhaling deep as the nicotine washed away whatever fear was left in her.

Then she spoke.

"My body," she spoke in a wonderfully soft and gentle Irish brogue, "please take car of my body", her only request.

"What's your name?"

"Bianca, Bianca FitzAlan."

"Your request is noted Bianca," Alejandro said with a smile.

She smiled back.

Soon the show was about to begin, the men were gathered, and Alejandro was in font of her.

She was tiptoeing on a pile of gathered up bricks, the earlier dead look now gave way for fear as the hour was upon them.

The tip of Alejandro's boot was touching the base of the pile, ready to kick and deprive her of the only support.

He looked at her for one last time, she was crying, the broken lenses of her glasses fogging up a bit.

She looked at him for the longest time, lips quivering, waiting and pleading for him to change his mind and show the young girl mercy.

He wasn't.

She gulped and finally relented, close shut her eyes before giving him a final nod.

Alejandro gave a quick kick, the pile of bricks toppled down and now Bianca was dancing around in the air.

She was choking and gasping heavily, the rope was not taunt and tight enough to break her neck from the weight of gravity. She was consigned to slow death from asphyxiation.

Alejandros men watched on passively, all emotion had been purged of them due to the brutal atrocities they had been exposed to, some were even making jokes and jabs at the poor girl's suffering.

Alejandro had his arms wrapped around her waist and arms, he didn't want her to futilely claw her own neck.

Minutes passed, her reddened face was getting less expressive, her writhing tongue instead of maddeningly reacting like a snail exposed to salt was wiggling more like a dried out worm desperately looking for wet soil. Her green eyes were faltering, rosy cheeks now becoming pale, her lips changing from red to a slight purple. Alejandro let go his grip, her arms were not going to flail about, just weakly raising up trying to claw at the rope.

Alejandro starting to suck on her breasts, such freckled beauties needed to be suckled on while alive, his tongue tasting lactic milk that would never be used to feed a child. His olive fingers were inserted into her vagina, her cum and piss streaming down her legs, her dirty feet floating off the ground, toes curling and uncurling weakly.

10 minutes and she stopped reacting to anything. Her glasses jutting out, tongue hanging out and red hair covering her now dead face.

Alejandro, took out his dagger, sawing the rope that had claimed Bianca's life and softly putting down her body on the gallows.

She was laid on her back, arms to the side and ankles touching together. She looked beautiful, even with the ugly expression on her face, green eyes bulging out of their sockets. Alejandro plumbed her pussy once more, a large squirt of her girl cum and piss violently ejected out, the last hurrah of her now inactive sphincter muscles.

Alejandro looked one last time at the British teenagers face, what a waste of such a beautiful girl. He wasn't about to dump her in some random pile of bodies.

He scooped her in his arms, kissing her on the lips, he would enjoy her company for the night, doing good his promise in taking care of her body. He would be gentle towards her in death, when he couldn't do so in life.