Gallows Flowers

There were ten girls sentenced to hang that day.
Nooses draped loosely around their necks, their faces tense and nervous. They fidgeted anxiously as they waited to die.
Rich walked down the platform, checking each one off on the list.

Angie, 13 years old. Petty robbery.
Marina, 11 years old. Prostitution.
Lin, 16 years old. Assaulted a police officer.
Mari, 14 years old. Blasphemy against the Church.
Michelle, 12 years old. Public indecency.
Samantha, 13 years old. Public intoxication.
Olivia, 15 years old. Assault with a deadly weapon.
Amanda, 17 years old. Prostitution.
Beatrix, 17 years old. Armed robbery.
Rachel, 12 years old. Prostitution.

Each girl was dressed in stained tank tops and shorts. All of them had their hair cut short in order for the noose to catch their necks properly. They had been blindfolded, as was customary for young prisoners. Rich had to give it to them, not one girl begged for her life. Their trembling and heavy breathing gave away their terror, but they still had enough backbone to not waste oxygen pleading with him.

Rich finished the checklist and signaled to the hangman. The hangman nodded, and yanked the lever back. All ten girls screamed for an instant as the platform opened up, dropping them about six feet. Ten ropes yanked tight, and ten young necks were broken instantly. A sense of satisfaction came over Rich as he surveyed those ten dangling bodies. It was a point of pride to him that he killed prisoners in the quickest, most painless way possible.

bump this great thread for the new site!

VR Training

"Hello, Recruit Jackson", the computer program intoned in a calming female voice. "Today, we'll go over your duties as a correctional services officer. Many new recruits understandably feel quite squeamish about their job, but we'll try and fix that". I looked around the virtual space. A featureless grey concrete room with 2 rows of fluorescent lights hanging from the ceiling.

Three people spawned in front of me.
Two were young girls who looked no older than 12, the other was an older boy, who was about 14. "I've spawned three simulated prisoners of the age range that your duty posting will deal with." The computer spoke again. "To your right is a standard issue tool of the trade. It is up to you to kill your prisoners".

A table flashed into existence to my right. On it was a rifle. I walked over and picked it up. The haptic feedback system of the VR sim made it feel like I was picking up a real gun, complete with the heft and coolness of metal.
I turned around and walked towards the prisoners.
All three were wearing bright orange prison jumpsuits, their hands were cuffed behind their backs, and their feet were cuffed and attached to rings embedded into the floor. I looked at the girl to the left, who glared at me through her unkempt blonde bangs.

The computer spoke again. "Lindsey Washington, prisoner number 4635528. Sentenced to death for blackmail." I pull back the bolt handle slightly, and the yellow gleam of a brass case shone back at me. I push the bolt forward, flick the safety off and point it at Lindsey. "Kneel", I state in my best commanding voice. She spits at me. "Fuck you", she growls. "Some prisoners may not be cooperative", the computer says soothingly. "The correctional services officer may then use more forceful methods to induce cooperation."

THWACK.

Lindsey doubles over, gasping in pain.
I grab her by her hair and wrench her face up to look at me. "Kneel" I say, and bring my fist up again. She flinches, and gets down on her knees.
I look over, and the other two prisoners slowly kneel as well. I unsling my rifle and aim it at Lindsey's face. No longer defiant, she averts her eyes. Tears roll down her cheeks as she breathes in her last lungful of air. I squeeze the trigger and the thunder of the rifle shot fills the room. Lindsey's head rocks back, a cavernous crater splitting apart her forehead. Her corpse falls back limply. Blood pools around her head, like a crimson halo. I kneel and place a finger on her neck. No pulse.

I stand up and walk over to the next girl. "Mira Gomez, prisoner number 6556417. Sentenced to death for prostitution." The computer stated. "H-hey mister, you want some fun times? I can show you some f-fun times, you don't need to shoot me eh?" Desperate words poured out of the tanned little girl like a fountain. "You know I can suck d-dick real good, I was the best." Mira opens her mouth, stretching out her tongue seductively. "Some prisoners may offer to perform sexual services in order to save themselves. Please note that while it is not recommended, there are no official regulations against having sexual contact with prisoners. However, attempting to free a prisoner is a class 1 felony and will lead to immediate termination and a lengthy prison sentence" the computer continued.

Mira's eyes follow the rifle as I slowly place the tip of the barrel on her outstretched tongue. The young girl licks it suggestively, her big brown eyes flicking back and forth from the rifle to me. I can almost taste the fear radiating from her. "Close your eyes", I command.
She hesitates, her eyes welling up with tears. "Now".
Mira closes her eyes tightly. I work the bolt, flinging the empty casing from Lindsey's execution out of the chamber and pulling in a fresh round. Mira's teeth clatter around the barrel in terror. She sobs, the reality of her incoming death crashing down on her.

BANG.

The girl falls back, a startled expression frozen on her face. Mira's head hits the concrete floor, blood and bits of brain splattering around her. The young girl spasms, her skinny legs twitching as her fatally damaged brain sends out confused signals. After half a minute, her eyes roll up and her body slackens.

I look over at the last prisoner. The boy looks at the corpse of Mira. His face radiated horror. "Carlos Vasquez, prisoner number 7349822. Sentenced to death for rape." I work the bolt action once more, the empty casing flying out. Unlike the two girls, Carlos just hangs his head. "Make it quick, please", he mumbles.
I walk around and jam the muzzle of the rifle against the back of his head. He flinches. I smell something acrid, and look down. A puddle of urine is growing around Carlos' legs. "Gross", I think to myself. I pull the trigger. The boy's head flies forward, before his body slumps and falls face down on the floor. I roll his corpse over. Carlos' face is a bloody mess, badly torn up.

"Congratulations, Recruit Jackson. You've passed the simulation with flying colors." The computer stated, sounding the closest its ever gotten to excited.
Two buttons flashed up on my HUD, one saying "Exit" and the other saying "Restart". I reach out and press "Exit". Perhaps I should get one of these for my home.

Field Execution

The boy struggled as the two soldiers manhandled him towards the pit. In a few minutes, he would become another statistic in the ever increasing numbers in the charts documenting this little bush war in the middle of nowhere.

His name was Rio Vargas. He was 13, that tender age between child and man. His body was wiry, stringy almost. His face still retained the softness of baby fat, and his hair was a mess of black curls. His skin was an even chocolate brown, from daily exposure to the sun.

That morning, he had been helping his grandfather move bags of flour from the truck to their house. Then the militia came, and accused grandfather of hiding supplies for the rebels. They did not specify which rebel group. They began to beat grandfather viciously.

Rio tried to drag them off, but they quickly turned their attention to him. They overpowered him and began to beat him mercilessly. You must be a rebel, they told him. Rio struggled to breathe, battered as he was. You know what we do to little rebel rats like you? The soldiers taunted him as they dragged him onto their truck. Grandfather lay motionless in the dirt as the soldiers drove off. The soldiers continued to play with him. Y'know, for a boy you sure look pretty. Pretty boy of the village, are you? I bet you suck a mean dick, boy. Hey, how about you suck our dicks? We aint had a woman in months, a pretty kid like you will have to do.

They forced him down. Bite us, and we'll skin you alive and make your parents watch. He opened his mouth, accepting the large unwashed cock of a soldier. Rio coughed and gagged, and the soldier slapped him. Suck, boy. Rio bobbed his head up and down, trying his best to wrap his tongue around the head of the penis. The constant bouncing of the truck as it drove over unpaved dirt roads complicated his efforts. The soldier grunted, and Rio tasted the salty bitterness of hot cum jet into his mouth. For the next hour, he serviced all 4 soldiers, taking cock in every conceivable hole.

The rape ceased as the truck drove into the militia camp. The soldiers cleaned themselves up, and dragged Rio out of the truck. Hey commandant, we found ourselves a little rat. What do you want us to do with him? The commandant looked a little annoyed. Didn't I tell you guys to go scare up some villagers for food? The commandant turned back to his maps. Kill him, I don't care. Rio's heart began to pound.
W-wait, I'm not a rebel! Please, you have to believe me! Rio screamed desperately. One of the soldiers punched him in the stomach. Rio doubled over, and two of the soldiers grabbed him by the arms and firmly pushed him towards a large pit. As Rio got closer, he saw the horrifying contents inside.
Twisted, blackened bodies and skeletons. Lord preserve me, he thought hysterically. Oh lord help me.

The soldiers reached the edge of the pit, and forced the boy to his knees. Rio was beginning to hyperventilate. He flinched as the muzzle of a handgun was placed against his head. The soldiers laughed as Rio's bladder emptied into his shorts. Please, don't do this, he pleaded. Please do-.
The soldier fired a single round into the back of Rio's head. The boy was killed instantly, the .45 ACP JHP mushrooming and causing immense and immediate trauma to the brain. The soldiers relaxed their grip, letting the boy fall limply into the pit. Job well done, they congratulated each other. Now, there's always more rebels to hunt.

Bump

Gemma

"Holly McDaniel, you are hereby sentenced to death. May the lord have mercy on your soul", the guard droned in a bored tone. "NOOOOO, PLEASE!" the girl screamed.

Gemma turned away, wincing as she heard the scraping sound of the guillotine blade dropping. The screams of the young girl strapped in increased in pitch before being cut off by the thud of razor sharp steel sliding through flesh and bone. Gemma looked back, and saw the twitching headless body of the girl get dropped into a black body bag.

Her heart rate increased. It was her turn now.

At 18, Gemma was one of the older girls at the facility. Due to her rebel parents, she had spent her childhood training for the eventual uprising against the repressive government forces. Unfortunately, the government had a mole in the rebels, and captured her and her family. Gemma's parents had already been executed, and today she would join them.

The guard assigned to her tugged the chain, and she got up off the bench. She noted the way the guards eyes wandered over her body with a slight shiver of disgust. Gemma had an athletic lifestyle, and her body showed it. Her legs and arms were well muscled, her stomach firm, with a slight hint of a 6 pack rippling underneath her taught young skin, tanned brown from years spent outdoors. The prison had cut her strawberry blonde hair short, the de rigueur for those sentenced to the guillotine.

"Alright, girl. Get on the board, lay on your back", the guard ordered curtly. Gemma complied, grimacing as she felt something sticky and wet smear on her back. The girl laid her head back and the guard shut the lunette over her neck. Gemma stared up at the blade and shivered. Soon, her life would be over. She couldn't really wrap her mind around it.

The guard walked over to the blade release lever. "Gemma Andrews, you are hereby sentenced to death. May the lord have mercy on your soul".

Gemma shut her eyes tight, gritting her teeth. 18 years of memories and regrets flashed through her mind. The sound of the blade falling was drowned out by the sound of her heart hammering away in terror. A sharp pain cut across her neck, then sudden numbness. She felt a falling sensation, and opened her eyes. The world spun around and around before fading to black.

The guard watched the girl's body twist and turn, its large firm breasts jiggling as her muscles flexed and relaxed mindlessly. Blood sprayed out of the neck stump, pooling underneath the corpse. The acrid scent of urine wafted up as Gemma's bladder relaxed. "Active one, aren't you?" he muttered as the board angled itself, dumping Gemma's corpse into a fresh black bag. He walked around to the head basket and peered inside. Gemma's head peered up at him, her golden eyes dull and half lidded. Her soft lips were open, a rivulet of blood dripping from her pert nose.

Just outta curiosity was was the Brooke-Strickland Act, and what happened that made such a law the norm?

>>15533
In summary, the Brooke-Strickland Act enabled the state to expedite convictions of criminals faster, with fewer opportunities to appeal, and with much harsher penalties for crime of any nature. In particular, it meant that minors would be tried and convicted just like adults. This was in response to a massive crime wave that took place over two decades during the 2030's and 40's, during the periods of unrest following the financial collapse of nations across globe caused by the effects of sea level rise, political instability from AI spin off technology, and massive move towards heavy automation. After the destabilization caused by the chaos, western nations elected much more authoritarian governments.

Self Checkout

Prison ID: 9972104
Name: Edward Montaigne
Gender: Male
Ethnicity: Caucasian
Hair: Brown
Eyes: Brown
Height: 5'3"
Weight: 105lbs

"Officer Williams, guard ID JW19990402, I'm here with prisoner #2972104", the female guard spoke into the voice activated release lock. There was a heavy clunk, then the LED turned green. The guard turned to the young prisoner and pushed him inside the small room. In the center was a large blue device that resembled a photocopier with a lunette and guillotine attached to it. The prisoner stopped. "A Schmidt AG2400, the newest and best", the guard laughed. "This thing'll do everything fer ya".

The ashen faced teenager walked around the machine. He slowly ran a finger over the blade. It was still wet with the blood from the previous prisoners. With the guard watching, the boy lowered his head into the receptacle, his right hand fumbling for the activation button. The lunette locked itself over his neck. The touch of cool metal on his skin made him flinch. The boy took a deep breath and closed his eyes. With his heart pounding, he pressed the button.

In an instant, the blade sliced through his neck, clean. The body crumpled to the floor, blood spraying like a fountain from the severed neck stump. The automated guillotine caught the severed head mid-tumble, its robotic arms swinging the grisly payload around to the guard. Edward's final expression was one of mild shock. Officer Williams took out the pocket ID device and pried open one of the boy's half lidded eyes, the gadget scanning the iris. With a bleep, it sent confirmation of prisoner death to the prison network.

Officer Williams casually tossed the boy's head into the waste disposal basket. The guard walked over to the headless body and knelt beside it. She grabbed the corpse by its feet and dragged it over to the body pile. It joined four others from that day.

The Donor

"Name".
The prisoner cleared his throat.
"Andrew Cullen".
The prison physician scribbled on his notepad.
"Age".
"Fourteen".
More scratching.
"Alright, physical examination time".
The doc snapped a pair of rubber gloves on and grabbed a small flashlight. "Open your mouth." Andrew complied, and the doc shone the light while pushing one gloved hand into Andrew's mouth. The doc withdrew the hand and wiped it with a moist towelette.

He continued examining Andrew. Shining a light in his eyes, taking a blood sample with a needle, and a urinary sample. Andrew hesitated at the last one, until the doctor gestured at the heavyset guard standing by the door. The implication was not lost, and the boy blushed as he pulled his baggy orange prison sweatpants down, relieving himself into a small plastic beaker. The doctor observed and recorded it all, his expression never wavering.

"A very healthy specimen, no history of disease, no record of injury", the doctor stated. Elizabeth nodded, her brows furrowed. "Same blood type as your daughter, roughly the same age, same ethnicity and upbringing", he continued, flipping through the file. "It's just…he's so young", she whispered. She looked at the photo again. The boy in it looked back, his eyes dark and filled with anger and fear.
"Ma'am, he made his choice. He'll be dead by the end of the week. Its up to you to decide whether that death will help your daughter", the doctor murmured. Elizabeth looked up and smiled sadly. "I guess you're right", she said. Her pen streaked across the page. The doctor smiled as well, although it was for a different reason. He had a contract with various health insurance providers that gave him a generous stipend each time he provided healthy organs to one of their customers. Andrew would add up to well over a million dollars as his organs would be spread across 10 different benefactors.

The week passed. Sunday came. The execution was scheduled early in the morning. The guards came with breakfast (porridge spiked with tranquilizers to induce docility). Andrew forced a few spoonfuls into his mouth, all appetite having deserted him hours before. The drugs worked quickly, letting the guards strip the prison uniform off of Andrew without much protest. They restrained his arms and legs. There was a look of tired resignation to Andrew's expression. "Hellow, Andrew!", the doctor greeted him with a chipper tone. Andrew couldn't muster the energy to reply back.

The prison administration had multiple methods of execution, some designed to leave as much of the body "pristine". In Andrew's case, they decided to use the garotte. The guards dragged the lethargic boy to the post and sat him down on the seat. They tied leather straps down across his chest, pelvis, and thighs, then placed a black hood over his head. The wire was loosened, then placed across his neck. One of the guards walked around to the back of the post, where the controls were located. The wire was attached to a motor which would tighten the garotte until the prisoner was dead.

With a nod from the prison doc, the guard activated the garotte, and the execution began. A sharp intake of breath could be heard from Andrew as he felt the wire sink into his neck, then a choked gargle. Almost immediately, the boy began to squirm. The motor whirred, undeterred by the resistance of flesh. Blood began to course down Andrew's heaving chest as the wire cut into his neck. A minute passed, and still Andrew fought against death. His feet drummed against the post, and his hands flexed. The doctor noted with some amusement the erection Andrew sported. Common enough on the adolescent boys who met their untimely end by asphyxiation or the noose. The doctor was lost in thought when he heard a final wet sigh, and looked up to see the boy's hooded head drooping forward. This was a crucial moment, as the prison needed to harvest the organs at their most freshest.

The guards loosened the restraints and dragged the corpse over to a table, where a medical autopsy robot shifted its spider-like limbs, cold steel gleaming under the harsh lighting of the execution chamber. Multiple medical saws whined as they sliced open skin and muscle, and the robot efficiently retrieved the heart, lungs, pancreas, liver, stomach, kidney, intestines, and eyes. It deposited each into an ice filled cold storage container.

One month later:

Elizabeth smiled as her daughter shot out of the hospital bed and rushed to hug her. Within her daughter beat the heart of that young prisoner. She gave silent thanks as she picked her child up and pecked her on the cheek.

Firing Squad

From my position in the watchtower, I could see the back door to the Juvenile Correctional and Disciplinary Center open, and quickly shoved the remainder of my cheeseburger down my throat before I tossed the wrapper to the ground. An alert on my phone informed me that three executions were to be carried out at this time, so I stood at attention and addressed the members of my squad below me.

“Alright troops! Break’s over, we have a few executions on the way!”

Several troops groaned as they tossed aside unfinished food, while a few hastily shoved what they could into their pockets, before grabbing their rifles.

Three girls walked through the doors, each one flanked by armed guards, and down a gravel path between the trees. I couldn’t make out enough details to determine their age, although only two wore the normal orange jumpsuit, while the other seemed to be completely naked. I climbed down the tower and waited. Three minutes later they arrived into the large clearing that serves as the Termination Field.

“Stand here and face front,” one of the guards directed. The prisoners stood, each four meters from the other, in front of a large hole, five meters wide and nearly 4500 meters deep, surrounded by a concrete wall a mere 600 centimeters tall—originally drilled for a deep underground nuclear test before the government changed its’ mind, and eventually repurposed this area into a prison for underage criminals.

While the firing squad prepped I quickly read their file.

Convicted of robbery and homicide.

Jessica O’Connor, 11, red hair, green eyes. Her body was a little more developed for her age, and, with the perky buds poking through her top, she could easily be thirteen.

Amanda Nguyen, 11, Vietnamese-American, black hair, brown eyes. She was the only one who really looked like a kid; small figure and flat chested. She almost looked graceful with her long hair flowing in the breeze, and, knowing she tried to help a killer escape, I felt a twinge of guilt. Should’ve picked better friends, sweetie. Maybe better luck in the next life.

Amy O’Connor, 16, red hair, green eyes. Without knowing her last name I could still tell that she was related to Jessica; the matching bushy red hair to her mid-back was a dead give away. She was also completely nude, confirming what I thought earlier. Later I would learn that she repeatedly removed her uniform, and eventually ripped it to shreds. Apparently she was a nudist, and the facility has a strict policy of one uniform per prisoner; any damaged or destroyed do not get replaced. She was also the only standing completely calm, whereas Jessica and Amanda continuously sobbed where they stood.

I put the phone in my pocket and grabbed my rifle before standing in the center of the line.

“Ready! Aim!”

A light gasp escaped the Asian’s lips and her body tensed up as thirty-six rifles aimed at her in unison.

“Fire!”

Three-dozen bullets ripped through Amanda’s torso. A torrent of blood and organ tissue coated the dirt and wall behind her, as her petite body crumpled to the dirt, twitching in a crimson pool. As piss and shit stained her pants, we pivoted our weapons towards the next prisoner.

“Ready! Aim! Fire!”

Jessica’s sobbing ceased and the kid joined her friend; twitching on the ground while soaking in her own blood.

Through it all, Amy looked out at us with an attempt at a glare on her round, girlish, face. Her eyes narrowed and her chest puffed out, as if daring us to try, when I repeated the order.

“Fire!” I yelled.

Her round tits flailed and rippled as bullets shredded them. Amy fell back into her blood, a vacant glare pointed at the sky and trickles of blood flowing from her mouth. Her thighs clenched slightly as she pissed and shit on the ground, pooling with the steadily growing puddle of blood.

As per government policy, I drew my pistol and walked towards the girls, starting with Jessica. With a kick of my boot, I kicked her over onto her back and placed a bullet in the center of her forehead. Movef on and repeated the procedure with Amanda, and then Amy. Then I ordered three of my men to toss the bodies into the hole, to join the hundreds of corpses from previous executions. We returned to our more mundane duties until the next prisoners were brought out.

bump! love this thread

bump, I love these <3 loli is usually my jam, but you do shota really adorably as well.

>>17048
Thank you.
I like some of your stories too, particularly the Nobles and Clones one. Might post a new story here sometime, I don't think I've done a lethal injection one yet.

Aww, thank you <3
And that would be awesome!

>>15119
This one was the nicest one to read. But i wish there was much more necro in those stories… Waste of good tight cunts and butts…

Arthur Hates Needles, Part 1

At 0830 in the morning, Warden Broussard swiped past the daily activity log on her tablet, occasionally taking sips from her coffee as she checked the day's schedule. It wasn't a busy day, with only one execution scheduled in the afternoon. She tapped the prisoner profile for the unlucky lad and enlarged the portrait.


Prisoner ID: 83289954
Legal Name: Arthur Derrick
Gender: M
Age: 12
Ethnicity: Caucasian
DOB: 2050/06/03
Scheduled Execution: 2062/07/25 at 1430 hours


A pair of dark brown eyes stared at her, shining with quiet intelligence. The boy's oval face was framed with a mess of jet black, wavy hair that cascaded down to his shoulders. His skin was pale, with freckles sprinkled across his pert, upturned nose and rosy cheeks. Arthur's lips were pursed and his eyebrows furrowed, looking deep in contemplation. Ah, just my type, Broussard thought to herself. The warden had a soft spot for quiet, intellectual types. They were always so soft and easy to break.

She swivelled her office chair around and looked at the wall behind her desk. Row upon row of heads gazed down at her, glassy eyed and expressionless. Broussard reached out and ran a finger down the cheek of a tanned blonde, feeling the cool pliability of chemically preserved skin and flesh. She cracked a smile. Arthur would make a fine addition to her collection.


Arthur was housed on death row, cell #5 in C block. He had spent his final week contained in the small 6x6 room, surrounded by cold concrete. A thin mattress, a sink, and a toilet were the only amenities afforded to death row prisoners. The boy sat on the mattress, aimlessly twirling one of his raven bangs with a finger. The distant sound of footsteps clopping down the hall grew nearer and nearer, until they stopped in front of his cell. He looked up, and saw the warden flanked by two guards. "Medical Examination time", the warden stated, "Get up and present your hands". Arthur complied immediately, raising his hands and letting one of the guards grab his wrists and cuff them behind his back.

They took him to the medical infirmary, walking him down the hall to catcalls and jeers from other prisoners. Arthur had gotten himself known for being rather slutty among the prison population. For a couple extra meal tickets, he'd let other boys fuck his tight ass and cum in his mouth. His slender figure and almost feminine facial features meant he had been very popular. Of course, in a few hours that wouldn't matter to him.

aww, poor little buddy <3

Arthur Hates Needles, Part 2

Soon, Arthur and his entourage came across a door marked "Medical Bay". As one of the guards opened the door, a faint whiff of formaldehyde could be smelt emanating from the room. Warden Broussard placed a hand on Arthur's slender shoulder and gently pushed him in, the two guards following close behind. Arthur looked around the room, and shivered as he saw the corpse of a young girl lying on an examination table, her flat chest opened up and her internal organs laid out beside her in a neat row. Her face was serene, marred only by the rope marks around her pale neck. That would be him very soon, he thought to himself, a pang of fear washing over him

The Warden brought the boy over to an unoccupied table. "Get onto the table and lay down", she told him firmly. Arthur complied, lifting his butt and sitting down on the edge of the table, then swinging his legs over and laying his head back. The cold metal surface stung his bare skin, but he endured it. The two guards came around and pulled restraints over his legs, chest, arms, and neck. He was completely immobilized, and at the full mercy of the Warden now. She dismissed the guards with a wave of her arm and turned back to Arthur with a terrible gleam in her eyes. "Let's have a look, shall we", she said, slipping her hands into a pair of latex gloves.

Arthur grimaced as she pulled down his prison issued grey boxer briefs, revealing his flaccid penis. The Wardens gloved hands gently pulled at the cock, tugging the foreskin down and revealing the pinkish grey head. She began to softly jerk Arthur's dick up and down. He gasped as her efforts increased in frequency, his pubescent body responding to the Warden's ministrations. Sure enough, Arthur's dick grew tall and proud, pulsing and turgid with blood. Warden Broussard licked her lips, angled the boy's cock, and placed the head in her mouth, her tongue rubbing the shaft. Closing her eyes, she slowly pushed down until her nose bounced against his still hairless crotch. She pulled her head back up, sucking and polishing the boy's dick until she felt him tense up. He grunted, his penis twitching as it ejaculated months of built up semen into the Warden's throat and mouth. With a wet pop, she disengaged from the penis, her tongue licking the jizz off her lips. The boy laid his head back, sweaty and dazed. That was his first blowjob, and it was the most erotic thing he had experienced in his short life.

The Warden glanced at her wristwatch, and pouted. "Ah shoot, we're outta time", she said, disappointed. She pulled Arthur's boxer briefs up, covering his now limp penis, and called the guards in. "Now usually, I'd take you to the execution room and use the fancy set up we have there, but its out of commission this week", she told Arthur. For a moment, he felt hope that they would call his execution off for a week. The Warden's next words dashed that hope to pieces. "Luckily, the pharmaceutical company this prison deals with has sent us a portable lethal injection kit to test out", Broussard continued as one of the guards handed her a small white case. She flipped the lid open and took out a hypodermic needle filled with a clear liquid. Arthur's eyes were as wide as dinner plates as she placed the needle against his arm, the tip raised just above one of his veins. "W-what is that?", the boy asked, his throat suddenly very dry. "Sodium thiopental, its a very fast acting drug, and lethal in the dose I'll be giving you", Warden Broussard answered, her hands steadily lowering the needle into Arthur's skin.

The boy winced as he felt the sharp prick of the needle entering his arm. He opened one eye and watched in horrified fascination as the Warden slowly plunged the entirety of the liquid into his veins. She pulled the needle out and placed it into a biohazard waste bin at the side of the table. "I don't feel any-anything", Arthur squeaked, his heart pounding in fear. "You shouldn't", she answered. The Warden looked up at the clock mounted on the wall, then at her wrist watch. "So, in about 5 seconds the drug should knock you out", she said absentmindedly. The Warden looked up, and saw Arthur's head nod forward, his eyes closed. She waited a couple seconds more, then placed a finger on his neck, feeling for a pulse. There was none. She reached into her vest pocket and retrieved a small flashlight. With her thumb, she pulled Arthur's left eyelid up, shining her flashlight into his pupil. His eye didn't react. The Warden gently closed his eyelid and put her flashlight away. She laid one hand on his chest, his body still hot and sweaty to the touch. Slowly, she leaned over and kissed him on the lips, her tongue slipping into his mouth and savoring the taste of his saliva and the sensation of warm wetness. The two guards looked at each other uncomfortably, and headed back out the door. They knew their presence would not be welcome by the boss, not at this moment.

Arthur Hates Needles, Part 3

Warden Broussard went over to one of the shelves attached to the wall, her eyes browsing the rows of surgical instruments. "Aha" she whispered to herself, seeing what she was looking for. Picking up a surgical saw and a scalpel, she returned to Arthur and got up on the table once again, straddling the body of the deceased boy. Arthur's skin was already turning even paler than before, his formerly rosy pink cheeks now a sickly looking greyish blue, his formerly luscious, soft lips a slight purple.

The Warden took the scalpel and made a horizontal incision right below Arthur's collarbone. The skin parted, revealing the spongy yellow sub-dermal fat layer. She ran the scalpel across the incision once more, exposing the vibrant red of muscle and blood. Then, she made a long incision down his chest, all the way to his pelvis. She got off the table, laid the scalpel down and hooked her fingers under the elastic band of the boy's underwear. Once more, she pulled it down to his thighs.

His penis was still moist from her blowjob and subsequent orgasm, but it was now small and limp and grey, completely without any blood flow. The Warden retrieved a glass jar filled with preservative from the shelf and opened the lid. With one hand, she grasped Arthur's cock at the base of the shaft and testes, took the scalpel with her free hand, and jammed the blade under the ballsack. With quick, firm slices, she quickly cut around the male member, freeing it from Arthur's body. Blood dribbled from the meaty gash, pooling around his inner thighs as the Warden dropped the dismembered cock and balls into the jar.

She walked around the table and pried apart the two flaps of chest skin. His ribcage gleamed white and red and yellow. Grabbing the surgical saw, she cut down the centre of the boy's exposed ribcage. This took a bit more physical exertion than she was used to, and the Warden decided to make a mental note to ask for the logistics department to buy more power tools. Finally, after many sickening crunches and cracks, she laid the saw aside and pulled the ribcage apart, revealing his internal organs to the harsh white light. Another jar was grabbed from the shelf, and she stuffed her hand deep into the jiggly, greasy mass of guts, fishing around for her prize. She finally felt it, grasped her hand tightly around the object, and pulled it up. Arthur's heart dripped slime and blood as the Warden took the scalpel and sliced away the arteries, freeing it from its former host. She dropped it into the jar and wiped her bloodslick hands across her dress shirt.

Finally, she looked over at Arthur's head. His eyes were closed, his lips slightly parted, revealing his perfectly white teeth. Broussard laid a hand on his cheek, took the saw, and began to saw away at his slender neck. Yet more blood trickled down, dripping onto the cold stainless steel table surface. Warden Broussard sawed past his windpipe and felt the telltale grind of the saw teeth coming up against his spinal column. She put the saw down and pulled Arthur's head back, taking a better look at his exposed neck meat. Picking up the saw once more, she placed it against one of the gaps in the vertebrae, and sawed through. Finally, she felt the head drop free into her hand.
She grasped the boy's head by the glossy black curls of his hair and raised it up to her eyes. Even in death, slack jawed, smeared with his own life fluids and devoid of color, Arthur still retained his boyish handsomeness. Broussard felt her heart skip a beat as she admired her newest trophy. It was moments like this that really made her job worth doing, she thought.

I don't care for dissection, but the execution was very cute <3

I never thought about it until he saw the dead girl already there, but do the kids share cells? I'd love to see them interact in those final hours before the big event <3 <3

>>17175
Good idea, some sholicon content might be a good break from the usual MILF/onee stuff.

How about executing little kids who were caught playing doctor? Maybe in presence of their mommy? She will be so glad to know her children got what they deserved as well as knowing what a great addition to the local trophy museum they made

Final Hours, Part 1

Clara was an average, fair skinned girl of 11 years, her belly soft and slightly chubby, her legs and arms skinny. The adults had told her to take off her school uniform in the prisoner processing room, leaving her wearing nothing but a camisole and panties. A stern faced female guard took a collar and fixed it around Clara's neck. Then, like all death row convicts at the juvenile centre, her dark brown hair was cut short.

As she sat in a chair, a prison barber carelessly shaving brown locks off her head, Clara glanced around, observing her fellow prisoners. Many of them had shellshocked expressions on their faces, as if they couldn't believe they were there. Some were stone faced, not letting a trace of emotion show. Others seemed overly jovial, as if they were covering up their fear with excessive cheer. And in which category did she belong to? Clara looked down at her lap, her heart twisting. She knew she didn't want to die, she wanted to live, to grow up like her sister and mother and father. Clara felt her eyes well up with tears. The young girl had seen enough publicly broadcast executions to know they weren't pleasant affairs.

The boy next to her seat glanced over, and laid a hand on her arm reassuringly. "Hi, what's your name?", he piped up. "Clara, what's yours?", the girl replied, her fears temporarily forgotten as she looked up. "My name is Jack", he answered. Clara looked into the boy's face and felt something stir deep in her chest. His oval face, round, friendly eyes, shaggy brunette hair and cheerful grin radiated friendliness and warmth. "Nice t'meet you, Jack", she said, slowly.

The barbers finished their hack job, and ushered the prisoners out into the yard. Armed guards prodded tardy kids towards the centre of the outdoor area, where an important looking fellow wearing a suit and tie stood on a platform, a microphone in front of him. Soon, about a hundred children were milling about, chatting with and comforting each other. The man made a gesture to the guards, who raised their rifles and fired off a burst of shots into the air. The raucous noise caused almost instant silence and attentiveness from the young prisoners.

" I am William Bronksy, head of operations at this facility. All of you gathered today are here for a very specific reason", the man started in a deep baritone. "You have contravened the laws of our society, and society has deemed it a waste to continue investing resources into raising you". Clara stared at Mr. Bronksy, resentment written on her face. A soft hand grasped hers, and she looked around only to see Jack give her a reassuring look. "Tomorrow, at precisely 12:00pm, we will select the first 10 of you to be executed. This will occur every night until the current group is finished". Mr. Bronksy looked down at his notes, then continued "Those of you not selected each night will follow a relaxed routine. There will be breakfast, lunch, and dinner served, and there will be plenty of time for reflecting on your sins". He looked up and ended his speech with a curt "Farewell".

Final Hours, Part Two

Slowly, the convicts shuffled away from the square, exploring their surroundings. A large, three story red brick building dominated the centre of the complex. A single road led into the facility, and was guarded by two guard booths. There was a smaller, concrete bunker placed a few hundred meters away from the red brick building. The entire complex was ringed by a 15 foot tall concrete wall topped with razor wire and dotted with guard towers. Men with rifles lounged in the towers, lazily smoking and keeping a keen eye on the facility grounds.

Clara stuck with Jack, and the two eventually started opening up with each other. Jack was a year older than Clara, he liked lasagna and garlic bread, he played baseball and enjoyed riding his bike around town with his friends. Clara liked reading books, her favourite foods were her mothers homemade pirogies, and she took swimming lessons in her spare time. The pair studiously avoided talking about their current circumstances as they walked around in the light summer afternoon. The young girl couldn't help but feel her heart flutter whenever she stole a glance at Jack. He was clad only in his white briefs, having had to turn in the jeans and T-shirt he wore to his trial. His body was sculpted and lean, his shoulders and chest just beginning to broaden in the onset of puberty. A subtle 6 pack could be seen rippling underneath his pale stomach flesh whenever he turned his torso. Clara wondered wether this was what "love at first sight" meant.

The summer sun slowly slipped under the horizon, and a bell rang out across the courtyard. Soon, the prisoners gathered in front of the entrance to the red brick building, which they found out to be the dormitory for their stay. Each prisoner got their own room, which was sparsely furnished with a simple steel cot, a desk, and a sink. There was a cafeteria placed on the ground floor which served cereal, bacon, eggs and toast in the morning, a light lunch of ham and cheese sandwiches at noon, and a dinner of soup and salad. Clara and Jack took their bowls from the counter and sat down at the table to eat. Surprisingly, the quality was decent, and the pair quickly wolfed down their dinner. They placed their empty dishes away and walked up to the second floor, where both their rooms were situated. Clara paused, and turned to Jack. "D-do you want to, um, stay with me tonight?", she asked nervously, her fingers fidgeting. Jack turned to her, a somewhat surprised look on his face. "Sure, if you want", he answered. The girl took Jack's hand and quickly pulled him into her room, closing the door behind them.

Once inside, she turned and faced him, her face blushing furiously. "I, ah, I-I really like you", she stuttered. Gathering up her nerves, she looked up at his big brown eyes and pushed forward. "Have you ever had sex?", she blurted out. The boy looked taken aback, and shook his head. "No, I haven't even had a kiss yet", he murmured quietly. "Do you want to do it with me?", the girl looked down at her hands as she said this. The sensation of Jack's hands softly slipping under her camisole straps answered that question.
The boy pulled her top over her head, revealing her milky white chest, flat as a washboard and dotted by two pink nipples. Clara's breath caught in her throat, and her arms crossed over her chest in a belated attempt at modesty. Jack continued, getting to his knees and pulling down Clara's panties, revealing her naked slit glistening with arousal.

Clara stepped back, and sat on the bed. She looked up at Jack, and pulled him down in an embrace, her soft lips locking with his in a deep kiss. The girl felt Jack's cock pulse and harden, poking into her thigh as she opened her mouth and accepted his wandering tongue, savouring the sensation of her first real kiss. His hands wandered across her chest, grasping at the small swells of her budding breasts. She rolled over and got on top of the boy's pelvis, pulling his underwear down and revealing his stiff prick. Her soft little hands pulled his foreskin down, and she leant over and gave it a peck on the tip. Jack closed his eyes and moaned as Clara took his cock into her mouth, slowly pumping her lips up and down the shaft, just as she remembered from seeing her mom and dad do some "loving" once. After a minute of sucking, Jack came hard, spurting his first ever load deep into Clara's mouth. She gagged and pulled her mouth away, cupping her fingers under her chin to catch the mixture of jizz and saliva dripping from her lolling tongue and lips.

She got up off the bed and went over to the sink, washing the sticky liquids off her palms and face. Heading back, she fell face first onto the mattress, lying beside her first sex mate. The pair were exhausted from this new experience, and quickly fell asleep.

Aww, they are so cute!! Omg, my heart is just going to break in the best way when these sweet little lovebirds get it <3

So romantic

Final Hours, Part Three

That night, Clara dreamt of death. The flash of finely sharpened steel reflecting the sun, surrounded by a halo of bright red blood as it bit into flesh. The stiff, reflexive muscular contractions of bodies being mortally damaged. Wide, frozen eyes staring into eternity, mouths stretched in screams. She dreamt of massive piles of decomposing meat, buzzing with flies and decay, bodies bloating with gas and skin sloughing off muscle and eyes bulging out of sockets, grotesquely fat tongues poking out between fish like lips. A vast nightmare landscape of suffering and agony stretched to the horizon.

She woke up with a start, gasping and shivering, with her slender body covered in sweat. The sun streamed through the cell block window, casting a ray of light across the cot. Clara rubbed her eyes, looked over and saw Jack still sprawled out, sleeping like a babe. His cock tented the thin bed sheet in a raging morning erection. Gently, Clara pulled the sheets off his slumbering body and leaned over it, marvelling at the sight. It stood up with a gentle curve, reaching almost 5 inches from balls to tip. She placed both hands around it and slowly started to jerk him off. He mumbled something incoherent and stretched his arms, before opening his eyes to the sight of Clara intensely stroking his erect penis. She leaned over and began to suck him off, her little tongue flicking around his dickhead, which began to leak precum.
Jack arched his legs and pressed his pelvis up, forcing Clara to take his full length into her mouth. She felt his dick twitch, then tasted the salty-sweetness of his cum burst onto her tongue.


The girl disengaged her mouth and straddled him once more, this time stretching her pussy lips apart with her fingers. "Lets have sex", she stated, almost as if it was an order rather than a request. Jack smiled, and pulled her down into a kiss. Clumsily, he maneuvered his still raging erection into her slit and began to pump up and down. Clara gasped as he broke through her hymen, and bit her lip in pain. Blood trickled down from her pussy and Jack slowed down, a concerned look crossing his face. "Are you okay?" She nodded her head, and placed both hands on his bare chest. "Keep going", she said breathlessly. She began to gyrate her hips, stirring his 12 year old penis inside her womb. Clara's pussy clamped down tight on Jack's cock, and for the second time that morning, he emptied another wad of cum from his ballsack. They collapsed on top of each other, both sweaty and flush with life. Clara kissed Jack passionately on the lips, feeling his heartbeat pound away through her flat chest.

The breakfast bell rang, and the couple lazily rolled off the cot and slipped on their underwear. They joined the rest of the crowd at the cafeteria, piling their plates with bacon strips, bowls of cereal, and toast. Having sex for the first time had made them hungry, and the quickly wiped their plates clean. Then, they made their way outside. It was a beautiful day, with barely a cloud in the sky. A soft breeze rolled across the complex, ruffling Clara's boyish haircut. The two kids strolled around the yard, content in simply being around each other. They made no attempt to talk about the mid day execution roll call.

As they walked, Clara could see other kids pair up. It was apparent they weren't the only ones wishing to experience sex before it was too late. They walked past a hispanic boy passionately kissing a pale ginger girl, his hands slipping into her panties. A few meters away, a raven haired girl was rubbing her pussy across the face of an tanned asian girl, who was desperately shlicking her exposed slit. Behind a tree, a muscular black boy with cornrows was being sucked off by a slim looking blonde boy with freckles. The patrolling guards simply stood by and watched, their faces expressionless behind mirrored shades and helmets.

The morning hours passed by in what seemed like minutes. Before they knew it, the clock read 11:59, and the convicts were now once again lined up in a neat square, surrounded by guards and waiting with baited breath. Mr. Bronksy once again came out and stood in front of the young crowd, dressed in the same drab business suit and tie. "It is now mid day, and I will announce the names of our first round of convicts", he spoke through a microphone. He reached into his pants pocket and retrieved a folded sheet of paper. He unfolded it, and began to read names off.

"Anette Rosenfeld, Brian Wachowski, Adam Williams, Tyrese Gibbons, Renee Espinoza". With each name announced, the unlucky prisoner trudged forward, their faces filled with misery. Some froze on the spot, and had to be dragged forward by the guards, none of whom were gentle. As the names rang out, Clara felt her heartrate increase. "Carl Sorenson, Lucy DeSouza, Naoko Borodin, Clara Hoffman, Jack Neller". Clara felt Jack's fingers tighten around hers as they heard both their names called. For a moment, Clara couldn't move, shocked by the sudden realization their lives would not progress into the afternoon. Jack pushed forward, dragging Clara with him as he walked to the line up of convicts standing in front of Mr. Bronksy. He looked down at them, his face emotionless.
"You will now make your way to the execution center, please follow the guards and do not attempt to escape. The collars around your necks will administer a knockout dose, and when you wake up we will make an example of you that will be far more painful than the standard execution". With a curt nod to the guards, Mr. Bronksy turned and walked back to the concrete bunker.

The armed men surrounded the 10 convicts and shoved them forward towards the same bunker. The kids began to walk slowly, each one intensely aware of every sensation. Their lifespan had been cut down from years to minutes with the stroke of a pen and a push of a button. Then, they were there, in front of the mysterious concrete bunker. The lead guard swiped an ID card through the keylock, and opened the door. Cool air blasted across sweating young bodies, causing many to begin shivering. The group shuffled inside, and the door closed behind them with a heavy thunk, sealing off the outside. The interior of the bunker was simply one large hangar bay, cast out of bare concrete and lit by harsh CFL strips. A large laundry basket was rolled out, and the lead guard turned to the convicts. "Take off your clothes and place them in the basket", he ordered the children. Slowly, the kids stripped their underwear and dropped them into the laundry basket. They stood there, nude and awkward, some of them still self conciously covering up their private parts.

A whirring sound echoed through the cavernous room, and ten poles slowly rose from the floor. Made of polished metal, they gleamed under the lights. Each one was 10 feet tall, and each equipped with a single thin nylon noose hanging down from the top. "Stand in front of a pole, and place the noose around your neck!", the same guard barked. The convicts froze. "You do not want to test my patience", the guard continued, a mean growl crawling into his voice. Jack was the first to walk forward to a pole. He stood in front of it, raised his arm and grabbed the noose, pulled it down and placed it around his neck. There was another motorized whirr, and the noose pulled up snugly under his jaw. He stood there, almost on his toes, his adams apple bobbing nervously. Clara joined Jack, taking the pole besides his and repeating the process. One by one, each prisoner chose their pole, letting the machine tighten each rope around their necks. Within two minutes, all ten convicts were noosed. The guards came around and tied each kid's arms behind their backs, and stepped back.

Clara could feel every movement of the nylon rope against her soft neck. Her heart pounded away, and her skin pricked with sweat. She turned her head and looked at Jack. The boy had his eyes closed, and was mumbling a prayer repeatedly under his breath. She could see his chest rise and fall rapidly, as if he was on the cusp of hyperventilating. An alarm bell buzzed, and the guards turned and left through the door. The kids were now alone, with only the electronic stare of HD videocameras and their final thoughts racing through their minds to keep them company. Clara stared down at her feet, thinking of her mother, father and sister. The girl felt tears rise up in her eyes. She missed them, and wishing intensely to see their faces one last time.

Then, the poles made one more whirring noise, and the ropes jerked up, pulling each convict off their feet. A high pitched chorus of squeaks, gasps, and gurgles erupted as each kid had the nylon noose slip deep into their neckflesh, cutting off oxygen and blood to the brain. Skinny legs flexed and kicked, desperate for a foothold that would never appear. Clara felt burning pain cut into her neck as her noose tightened inexorably. She made an effort to stay still, but her dumb animal brain took over, causing her to lash out, twisting and jerking every single muscle she had in a futile attempt to escape from her fate. The average hanging victim, if their noose is set up correctly will lose conciousness within 10 seconds of suspension. Clara was no different, being an average 11 year old girl. Her body went limp as she blacked out, her limbs shivering and twitching. Piss dribbled down her coltish legs as she lost control of her bladder.

Jack was strong and healthy, and for whatever reason the noose had not tightened properly. The boy was still concious by the three minute mark. He twisted in agony, his lips drawn back in a pain filled scowl. Saliva dripped from his mouth as he clenched his teeth, sweat dripping from his forehead and torso. His muscular legs kicked and bicycled. Jack's mind buzzed with terror and pain. His nose began to drip with blood as the pressure rose in his head, and his tongue pushed out between his darkened purple lips, drooling across his chest. The boy tried to turn his head to look at Clara one last time. He could only catch a glimpse of her dangling body, her limbs stretched out rigidly. Jack knew she was long gone. Finally, he too lost conciousness, his legs slowing and arms dropping to his side. The kids were left on the poles for 20 minutes as their necks slowly stretched under the weight of their bodies. The poles whirred again, red LED lights blinking as each one automatically lowered the corpses to the concrete floor.

William Bronksy walked into the execution chamber and surveyed the scene. Guards picked up limp bodies, cutting away the nylon ropes and carelessly tossing each corpse into a black, unmarked body bag. The lead guard walked up to him and saluted.
"All 10 convicts have been confirmed to be deceased", he reported briskly. Bronksy smiled thinly. "A job well done, Reyes", the supervisor said, a tone of professional satisfaction coming through. "We're well on track for our yearly quota, keep it up and you'll see a nice Christmas bonus." Reyes smiled and nodded, then turned back to the body bags. "Lets go, people!", he barked. "I want these stiffs in the freezer room right now!"

A week passed. The supermarket buzzed with people shopping for the weekend.
A young girl walked with her mother in hand down the meat aisle. She paused in front of a refrigerator door and stared up, wide eyed. A row of limbless, headless torsos hung from hooks, covered in plastic wrap. The mother paused and watched her daughter. "This is what happens to naughty little girls and boys", the mother said gently. The girl turned back, a worried expression crinkling her round, soft face. "Am I a naughty girl?" she said, worried. "Oh no, you're an angel", the mother laughed. "Now lets go, daddy is waiting for us outside".

I hope this little girl will be hung from a hook very soon.

Wonderful stories. My favorite on the site.

>>18328
Thanks for the comment, means a lot to me.
I'm still around, but it might be a while before I write something new.

School Suspension

"Miyuki Tanimura, for the crime of lesbianism, you are hereby sentenced to be hung by the neck until dead". The school principal looked the young asian schoolgirl sternly, then nodded at the PE teacher manning the gallows. Miyuki trembled like a leaf in a hurricane as the thick hemp rope was wrapped around her slender neck and tightened, with the knot resting securely behind her nape. She didn't dare look at the crowd of classmates watching intently, nor did she look at the slowly swinging corpse of her one time girlfriend beside her.

Once the PE teacher was satisfied with his noose set up, he grabbed her skirt and ripped it off, revealing Miyuki's white cotton panties, pale stomach, hips just beginning to widen and long, coltish legs. Not satisfied with just that, Miyuki's executioner pulled her serafuku up, exposing her budding chest and pink, puffy nipples that hardened in the cool autumn air.

"Please, just hang me already", she whispered, her face flushed with shame. The PE teacher didn't bother giving an answer, simply placing a hand on the lever, and pulling it back. The trapdoor clattered open and gravity took hold of Miyuki's slim frame, pulling her down until the rope reached its full length. Miyuki let out a small squeal as she dropped before choking as the noose went taut, jerking her neck but not with the force required for a cervical dislocation. The 13 year old swung in circles, her face contorting in pain. She kicked her legs energetically, sweat dripping off of her young, fit body.

The PE teacher slowly made his way down the platform and watched with interest from the bottom as Miyuki strangled. The young schoolgirl's face reddened, her mouth yawning open as she struggled to draw oxygen into her lungs. Her panties slipped down her legs as Miyuki danced, one last bit of humiliation before the unfortunate girl shuffled off the mortal coil. Miyuki's efforts slowed down as the minutes passed. At the 5 minute mark, she passed out, with nothing but the odd shiver and twitch passing through her limbs. Piss dribbled from her moist slit as her bladder relaxed.

At the 10 minute mark, the school nurse walked up to the swaying body, placed her stethoscope on its chest, and listened intently. She looked up at the principal and shook her head. The principal cleared his throat. "I hereby declare Ms. Tanimura expelled and dead".

The PE teacher took out his pocketknife and cut the rope, sending Miyuki's body crashing down to the ground in a heap.
The school nurse assisted him in dragging the body into a waiting body bag. Miyuki's lesbian friend was also cut down and placed into a body bag. The two schoolgirls lay beside each other, their faces serene despite the trauma of their demise.

aww, poor babies! at least they can be together in death <3

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.

Long Drop

"Samuel Ardwen, before the sentence is carried out, do you have any last words for the court?"

Samuel looked up at the magistrate and slowly shook his head. There wasn't anything he could say that would save his life, so he opted to stay silent. With a bored yawn, the magistrate ticked off a checkmark on her clipboard.

The hooded executioner gently slipped the noose over Samuel's head, tightening it around the boy's slim, pale neck. Samuel shivered as the rough fibers of the rope scratched his skin. The hangman then placed a black cloth over Samuel's eyes and tied it in place. He withdrew and looked over to the magistrate for the confirmation to start.

A simple nod from the magistrate signalled the go ahead. The hangman quickly leaned forward and gripped the lever firmly. With a yank, he opened the trapdoor beneath Samuel's feet. Without a sound, the boy dropped several feet before the noose went taut. There was a sickening crack as Samuel's neck broke instantly under the weight.

Samuel jerked, his legs twitching, but the damage had been done. With the connection between the brain and the body severed, Samuel's vital functions quickly shut down. Muscles relaxed. A damp spot appeared on the seat and crotch of his shorts as his bladder emptied.
A final, faint gurgle rolled out between his parted lips, and that was that.

They waited several minutes before cutting Samuel down. His body was heavy and limp, falling to the ground with a thud. The magistrate knelt beside the corpse. A morbid sense of curiosity took over, and she pulled Samuel's shorts down. She exhaled, disappointment clear on her face. The warden had told her that boys would spring rock hard erections when they hanged, but Samuel's penis was soft and flaccid.

"Have a little respect for the dead, wouldja?", the hangman grumbled as he joined the magistrate in observing Samuel's body. The pair stood there for a minute, silent. "He was a cute kid", the magistrate mumbled. The hangman nodded, although he himself had no opinion. Boys weren't his thing.

"Alright, I'll leave you to it", the magistrate spoke again, before excusing herself. Probably to rub one out in the women's bathroom, the executioner thought, amused.

The executioner gathered Samuel's body up, gingerly taking care to avoid touching the moist, wet stain on Samuel's shorts where the boy had soiled himself. He deposited the corpse into a black bodybag, picked up the arms and crossed them over Samuel's still chest, before zipping the body bag closed.

Lilly and the Needle

At 8:00AM on the 21st of October, Bill inserted his keycard into the cell door slot, and heard the subtle click of the lock releasing. He pushed it open and entered the spartan room. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw Lilly, the prisoner. His pulse quickened.

The 11 year old was sitting on her bed, wearing nothing but a ratty, oversized shirt. The sight took his breath away. She was beautiful, as always, but the circumstances of his visit that morning made her even more ethereal and angelic, in a melancholic way.

"Hi Bill", she purred, her blonde tresses falling over her slender shoulders. The young girl slowly raised a hand and pulled her t-shirt down at the hem, exposing her pale right breast. Her tiny pink nipple flashed, beckoning the prison guard closer.

His mouth was dry as he slowly approached the girl. Bill sat down next to Lilly, his rear sinking into the mattress, the springs squeaking in protest. He watched as Lilly unzipped his pants and pulled out his semi erect penis. She looked up at him with her big, blue eyes, lips curled into a smile. Her soft hands wrapped around his dick and slowly began to jerk him off.

Very quickly, Bill's cock hardened, springing up into a full length of 6 inches. As pre-cum beaded on the tip of his dick, Lilly swiftly leaned over and took him into her mouth. Billy gasped as the 11 year old girl sucked, her tongue expertly rubbing and licking the shaft and bulbous head. As her head bobbed up and down, she closed her eyes and brushed an errant strand of hair away from her face. Bill reached his limit and came, hard. Hot jizz spurted from his pulsating penis deep into Lilly's mouth and throat.

The girl pushed herself away, gagging and coughing, strings of cum dripping from her lips. She wiped her mouth with the bedsheet as Bill sighed and laid down beside her. The two sat on the bed, silent and content. A minute passed before Lilly sat upright and looked over at Bill.

"It's today, isn't it?", she said, her voice trying to be neutral, but failing. Bill opened his eyes and looked up at Lilly. "Yeah", he mumbled.

Regret tinged his reply. Lilly hadn't even started her life before awful circumstances and bad luck had lead to her incarceration and death sentence at the tender age of 8. There were three years of appeals and courtroom battles, but Lilly and her lawyers were unable to get a reduced sentence. Bill had met Lilly a year ago, when the courts rejected her final appeal and moved her onto death row. He was her principal caretaker, and their relationship quickly grew into something akin to father and daughter.

That relationship changed last month, when the date for Lilly's execution was set in stone. Bill had been the one to give the news to her, and the memory of that event was seared into his brain. The way Lilly's usual excitement at seeing him crumbling away into despair as he told her with a heavy heart the exact time and date that her short life was going to end, that had broken his heart.

Perhaps that was the reason why she had suddenly started acting so sexual towards him. Bill knew that Lilly was starting to go through puberty, had even lent her some books on the subject, but the sudden brazenness of her flirting was still shocking to the older man. At first, he resisted. But she was persistent.

The sensation of warm skin resting on his pelvis broke Bill's reverie. Lilly was straddling him, her hands stroking his cock once more. Bill's dick leapt to the challenge, stiffening once more. Her oval face flushed, Lilly carefully guided the engorged cock. Bill placed his hands on her slim thighs and pulled down. Lilly grunted in pain as his thick girth pierced through her hymen, blood dripping down his shaft. "Want me to stop?", Bill asked, concerned. "N-no, I'm okay", the girl answered, biting her lower lip. His cock still fully enveloped by her cunt, she embraced Bill in her arms, laying her head on his shoulder, breathing in his paternal musk.

Bill rolled over, reversing their positions. He shifted his hands from Lilly's thighs to her waist and started pumping, his hips and dick going in and out. For Lilly, the experience changed from that of pain to pleasure fairly quick. Inexperienced freshly deflowered maiden she was, Lilly orgasmed after only 3 minutes.

Her tight pussy clamped down on Bill's penis, massaging it as he came once more, this time sending baby batter deep into Lilly's womb. With a squelch, Bill pulled out of Lilly, cum flowing out of her vagina. Now both were truly spent.

An alarm on his wristwatch beeped. Bill opened his eyes groggily and took a glance. It was 4:30PM. He rubbed his eyes and looked over. Lilly was softly snoring beside him. Her face was serene. How someone could sleep so soundly on the day of their death truly amazed him.

Bill pulled on his uniform and crept out of the cell, closing the door behind him. The sentence was set for 8:25PM, leaving Lilly enough time for a last meal and a shower. He went to the prison cafeteria and bought some burgers and soft drinks, and made his way back to the cell.

Balancing the food in his arms, he keyed open the door and slipped in. "Psst, hey. Dinner time, sleepyhead", he whispered in her ear. She yawned, and slowly opened her eyes. "Burgers?", she said, bemused. There was a low growl, and she looked down at her stomach. Bill chuckled, earning him a playful punch in the arm from the embarrassed girl. They ate together for the last time, watching old movies from the CRT TV bolted to the wall of the cell.

The last few hours passed seemingly in minutes.

Bill's watch clicked over to 7:45PM. "Let's go take a shower", he suggested gently. Lilly didn't respond. "Hey, what-", he stopped. He knew what the matter was. Lilly turned and looked up at him. Her eyes were red, tears dripping down her cheeks. "I'm scared", she said, quavering. Her head bowed. "I'm so, so scared. I don't want to do this." Sobs wracked her small, slim body. Bill just wrapped her in a bear hug, his hand ruffling her blonde head reassuringly. "Shhhhh, shhhhh", he soothed.
He could feel the girl crying quietly into his uniform, hot tears, saliva and snot soaking into the fabric, making it cling to his skin.

"Come on, lets get you cleaned up". He rose, carrying Lilly in a princess hold. Prison regulations demanded that all death row prisoners were to be restrained by the legs and arms when being transported around the complex, but he ignored that. The regs also frowned upon having sex with the prisoners, which showed just how much he followed them, or how much the prison cared.

The prison showers were abandoned in the evening. Lilly, having recovered her dignity somewhat, extended her legs as Bill let her down. She slipped off the shirt and bike shorts, nude once more. Bill shut the door. He figured she deserved her last shower alone, in private.

10 minutes passed. Then, the door opened. Steam wafted out as Lilly exited, her skin and hair damp. The girl had regained her composure, and meekly followed Bill as they walked down the hall towards the death chamber. Bill stopped in front of the door and turned around to face Lilly. "Can you give me your hands?", he asked. She raised her arms, and Bill took out a ziptie and secured her wrists together. He looked apologetic.

They entered the final room. It was white, well lit, clean and clinical. A single gurney took up the center of the room. Two people in medicinal garb stood by, along with a table topped with jars and needles. Lilly stopped. Her heart twisted in fear. This was it, there was no way out of here alive. Bill pushed her forward, and she slowly shuffled towards the gurney. The prison guard lifted her off the floor and placed her on the gurney, strapping her in tight. Lilly looked towards Bill. He looked sad. She turned her head and looked at the doctor and his assistant. Their faces and bodies were hidden by bulky masks and clothes, genderless avatars of death.

Lilly's eyes locked onto the needle filling up with a clear liquid. The doctor came close and placed the needle against her arm. "E-aaagh", she squeaked, the pin prick of the needle injecting the fluid into her. A few seconds passed, and she felt drowsy. No, no no no no no. Her eyelids felt heavy. Lilly fought with all her willpower and strength, her heart racing like a rabbit being cornered by wolves. Once her eyelids shut, she knew there would be nothing more.

The doctor watched as the girl drifted off into sleep. He turned, dropped the used needle into a waste basket, and took the other needle from his assistant. This one was filled with a pale green liquid. He stuck it into Lilly's arm, near the same spot where he had injected the girl with a sedative. He muttered a prayer for the kid, and injected the lethal dose of poison into her.

Bill watched as the needle filled Lilly's veins with poison. She stirred, her flat chest rising and falling with each unconscious breath. Then, a deep, guttural snore blew from her. Her muscles contracted and went rigid, hands and feet flexing. Her mouth parted, and her final breath blew out with a sigh. The girl relaxed and slumped back, her chest going still. Her head lolled over at an angle. A trickle of blood oozed from her pert button nose.

The two medical personnel checked her vital signs, pressing fingers and thumbs against arteries, prying open her eyelids to shine flashlights into her dull pupils, sensor pads being pressed against her chest and forehead to measure EKG and brain activity. All came up negative for signs of life. It was official, then. Bill dully plodded over to the corpse. Only a few short minutes ago, she as full of life, beating heart and thinking brain, hot blood coursing around her organs. Now, she was nothing. A sack of meat, destined for a dissection class at the local college. The guard muttered a short prayer, undid the restraints and lifted her limp body up. It was still warm, flexible, and damp from the shower. As Bill hefted Lilly up, he noticed the distinct smell of piss and shit. Quickly He placed the corpse into a waiting body bag and rolled it over. Her asscrack was smeared with feces, and her inner thighs moist with urine. He wrinkled his nose as the smell drifted up past his nose. Quickly, he zipped it up.

omfg, I can't believe I totally missed a post!

poor baby, my heart broke (in a good way) when she started to cry. I'm glad they were gentle with her <3

A Humane Method

There weren't going to be any observers at the execution, they told him. He would have complete privacy while they took his life.The process itself was simple. An injection that would put him to sleep, then another to stop his heart. Quick and painless, not like those barbarians to the south that delighted in torturing their prisoners.

It was a shame that such a handsome young man needed to die, but that was the law. Their voices were gentle and pitying.

Cameron stared at the gurney awaiting him. The clock ticked away, each second implacably melting away, moving him closer and closer to the end. He looked up at the clock. Half an hour left.

Slowly, he pulled his grey cotton shirt off and folded it neatly beside the gurney. Next, he slipped out of his sweatpants. Those too got folded neatly and placed beside the gurney. He left his briefs on. Even though there would be no one there to watch him, there was still an element of embarrassment present from being completely naked.

He turned around and lifted himself up onto the bed, then swung his legs over and laid his head back onto the pillow. There was a whirr, and piezo-electric elastic-polymer straps rose from the sides and secured his arms, legs and chest tightly. Cameron's heartbeat rose. There was no getting out of this now.

The gurney was a brand new automated model, with a little electric motor and a cluster of sensors arranged around the exterior. It slowly trundled down the empty hallway towards the open door to the chamber. The chamber itself was small, only 10 feet by 10 feet. The ceiling was occupied by an array of wires, tubes and mechanical limbs. The automated gurney parked itself under the device. Cameron closed his eyes tight as the limbs swung into action. He gasped as a needle jabbed into his neck, and despite his earlier acceptance, he began to struggle against his restraints. The sedative was very quick however, and the boy soon ceased writhing as his mind slipped into a deep sleep.

The mechanical limb discarded the used needle into a biohazard waste bin, and retrieved a new one from its magazine. The liquid inside was a brand new mix, straight from the lab. The prison had also not been entirely truthful when they said "no observers". There was a single HD camera recording the execution, attached to the automated lethal injection machine. Its unblinking stare watched as the needle slipped into Cameron's arm, its payload shooting into the unconscious boy's arteries.

It happened within an instant. One second, Cameron's BPM and EEG read normal. The next, they flatlined. A single shudder ran through his body as his muscles contracted, then relaxed. The staff heard a soft sigh escape from Cameron's lips as he exhaled his last breath. A high pitched tone sounded, and the prison doctor quickly made his way down to the chamber. She entered the room and made her way to Cameron's body. She laid a finger on his neck and felt for a pulse. There was nothing. Reaching into a vest pocket, she took a small flashlight and pried open his right eyelid. She turned the light on and checked for pupil dilation. There was no reaction. Satisfied, the doctor closed Cameron's eye and laid her hand on his bare chest. It was still warm with residual body heat. Her clinical eyes wandered over his slender form, admiring its youthful smoothness.

Something odd caught her attention. His briefs had a bulge in it. She wondered idly if he had gotten a hard-on while dying. It wasn't a rare phenomenon when she worked the gallows section, but she hadn't seen it happen before in a lethal injection. The doctor let curiosity get to her, and pulled Cameron's undies down. His dick sprang out, ram rod straight and stiffer than steel rebar. The glistening purple head oozed strings of cum.

Her eyes widened. Not only did he have a boner, but he actually managed to bust a nut while dying. The vigor of youth, she thought wryly. The drug might've helped as well.

aww, poor buddy

bump one of my very favorite threads

Against The Wall

Benjamin fidgeted as the truck bounced and shook, the rickety suspension swaying as it rolled across the poorly maintained dirt road that wound through the Chipperdane Forest to the execution site. The young boy glanced at the other prisoners, each one contemplating their impending death with varying amounts of success.

There were 4 others with him. All of them were minors, the children of those considered inconvenient to the current regime.

There was Susan, a 12 year old girl with bright hazel eyes, chocolate skin, and messy brown hair. James, a tall and slender 14 year old, pale as snow with strawberry blonde hair cut short. Olivia, the eldest of the bunch, a 17 year old with perky tits, a ginger braid and a shy smile.

Then, there was himself. Benjamin, age 15, short, slender, with a feminine face, glossy brunette hair tied into a pony tail, and soft ivory skin smattered with freckles. Puberty had come late for him, leaving him to be mistaken for a girl, to his eternal chagrin, and to the delight of high school bullies.

All of them wore the same ill fitting clothes, cheap polyester shirts and stained gym shorts. Benjamin stared at his lap, looking at the large brownish-red stain covering the crotch. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what had caused it.

Suddenly, the truck jolted to a stop, its brakes creaking in protest. There was the sound of doors opening, then slamming shut. The guards spoke, and one laughed. Then, they opened the rear door of the truck.

Benjamin winced as the mid day light flooded the dark interior. A hand grabbed his shoulder and roughly pulled him out. With his hands tied behind him, Benjamin stumbled to the ground, almost slipping as his bare feet came into contact with the cool, wet mud.

This was it. The infamous Recycling Center, where people disappeared forever. It was a large clearing in the woodland, with a simple brick wall about 8 meters high and 10 meters long at the far end. The guards wordlessly pushed him and the others forward, towards the wall. As they got closer, Benjamin could see the pockmarks left by pistol bullets, as well as the dried old bloodstains. He also saw the table, where a single revolver and a box of bullets lay.

His legs weakened. As he buckled, the guards flanking him caught him and hauled him back up. They dragged him towards the wall as he began to hyperventilate.

The others managed to quell their terror long enough to walk up to the wall unaided. As they stood shivering, a guard pulled a blindfold over their eyes and tied it tight. When he came to Benjamin, the boy shook his head violently. "Are you sure?", the guard spoke, a quizzical tone in his voice.

"…Yes".

The guard shrugged and shoved the blindfold back into his vest pocket. Benjamin stared at the wall in front of him, and grit his teeth.

"Kneel".

The prisoners slowly got to their knees.

Benjamin heard the sound of the revolver being cocked. There was a minute of silence, then a thunderous bang as the gun was fired, point blank into the back of Susan's head.

The young girl dropped dead immediately, the large .45 Long Colt bullet carving through her brain stem and exiting out her cheek in a shower of blood and bone fragments.

Olivia let loose a shriek of fear that trailed off into sobbing. There was another click as the hammer was pulled back again, resetting the single action trigger.


Another minute went by.

This time, it was Jame's turn.

The guard, perhaps in a sadistic mood, decide to shoot the 14 year old in the nape of the neck. The bullet deformed as it punched through his C4 vertebrae, sending it spiralling out the side of his throat, slicing open his external carotid on its way. The blonde fell forward, hitting the wall and sliding down along his face. Blood jetted out of the exit wound as he gurgled desperately, his firm legs kicking as he bled out in the mud.

Olivia was a quivering, sweating mess by that point.
As the guard once more cocked the gun, she wet herself, piss dripping down her shapely legs.

"Please, don't kill me, please please ple-".

Her cries were silenced as the gun roared again. This time, the guard shot her right between her shoulder blades. The bullet passed by her spine and zipped through her heart, punching out her chest in a splatter of blood. She dropped face first into the mud like a bag of flour, unconscious within a second, and dead within the minute.

Benjamin's mouth was dry as he heard the guard walk up to him and cock the revolver. The muzzle pressed against the back of his head, and he instinctively flinched. Benjamin could feel his heart racing, the sound of blood roaring in his ears as the last minute of his life ticked away, second by second.

He didn't hear the gun fire, nor did he feel the bullet go through his head, pulping his sensory and prefrontal cortex and tumbling out his forehead in a crimson red bloom that covered the wall in front of him with blood and brain matter. For Benjamin, his death was mercifully quick and painless.

The guards left the bodies there for another couple minutes as they walked back to the shack for a drink and a smoke break. Blood stained, broken and limp, the young corpses slowly stiffened as the sun peered out behind the grey clouds.

Within the hour, they would be stripped naked, then dumped into the mass grave to join the hundreds of other unlucky souls that met their untimely end at the hands of the regime.

Tis the year that this old thread gets revived.

Feeding The Fish

Marcy finished the rest of her hamburger as the truck pulled up. George climbed out and opened the back door. Six naked teenagers shuffled out.

“What do you have for me?” Marcy yawned.

“Just some fish food,” George growled as he handed her their files.

Marcy raised an eyebrow as she scanned the papers. Of the condemned, three of them were siblings. It wouldn’t be the weirdest execution since working at the Youth Correctional Facility, but it was enough to make her wonder what kind of home life ended with all three of them at the Cliff.

Ryan, 16 and the oldest of the Johnson siblings. He was tall and slim with short brown hair. He was in for robbery and the rape of a 10-year-old girl.

Samantha, 14. A petite black girl with long hair and big tits, she was in for arson.

Tammy, the middle Johnson kid, was 15. She had mid-length brown hair and perky breasts, with an apple ass. Like her brothers, she was in for robbery. She was also charged with killing the same 10-year-old girl her brother raped.

Jessica, 17. Puffy brown hair, freckles, and a curvy frame, and charged with public indecency.

Katie, 15. Asian with long black hair and small breasts, she committed robbery.

Tristan, the last kid on her list and the last Johnson sibling, was the youngest of the batch at only thirteen. He was almost Ryan’s twin, slim with brown hair, only he was a few heads shorter. He was also holding hands with Katie

Sabrina wondered if Katie was close to the Johnson kids. Judging by the fact that she had semen dripping down her chin, and the slickness of Tristan’s dick, THEY were at least friendly. Were they actual partners in the same robbery, or did they fall in love during their last truck ride? The files never went into detail, so Sabrina could only guess.

George lined them up feet away from the cliff. A few of them shivered as they looked out over the crashing waves below. Samantha started sobbing. Tammy spat over the edge. Ryan just folded his arms as if trying to say they’d have to do better to scare him. Ryan and Katie tightened their grips, Katie leaned over and kissed Ryan on the cheeks.

Sabrina sighed as the part she hated most came up, looking at the cement slabs stacked beside the lunch table. Each one weighed thirty pounds, with chains and clamps attached. The biggest issue with having an execution facility on an island is there was only so much land to bury the bodies, meaning they had to dump the bodies in the sea. The public kept bitching about bodies washing up on the beach to the dismay of tourists.

“Want me to give you a helping hand with these?” George asked.

“Yeah,” Sabrina grunted as she grabbed one. “Thanks.”

With his help they one in front of each teen.

“Thank you, again,” Sabrina said with a smile.

Moving from left to right, the two began locking the prisoners to their slabs. Clasps went over their necks, biceps, thighs, and ankles. George worked the top and Sabrina worked the bottom.

Sabrina and George cleared out of the line of fire between the gun turret, Sabrina pulled out a remote and pressed a button. The turret swiveled and with a loud bang, blasted a grapefruit-sized hole through the middle of Ryan’s upper back, coming out through his heart. Samantha and Jessica screamed, piss and shit running down their legs before the gun fired. Even Tammy started pissing herself right before the 20mm round replaced her heart with a hole big enough to throw a baseball through.

Katie and Tristan turned to embrace each other in a final kiss. In doing so, the 20mm round went through Katie’s chest, completely obliterating her left boob and burrowing through to the right side of her back. Tristan didn’t let go until he caught a round through the chest and the young lovers slumped over each other.

George and Sabrina spent the next few minutes tossing the dead teens into the sea, their bodies dragged into the murky depths.

Bump! My favorite lit entry

These are wonderful!

Body Processing 3

Jane came from the execution chamber with a cart full; the bodies of four girls and a boy.

"I got some fresh meat for ya," she said, leaving the cart by Jackson's table.

Jackson groaned and grabbed the scanner. "And I just finished lunch."

The worst part about working in the larger facilities wasn't even the increased workload. Oh, you can believe there was more work to do. When he worked at a facility out in the sticks, he might get one or two bodies a day. Here, the bodies show up by the hour; he processed seven just an hour ago.

But, no. That didn't compare to the condition of the bodies he processed. The smaller facilities often had enough time to hang or behead their victims. It just wasn't feasible to maintain a guillotine or gallows with this many corpses. Here, executions were carried out by a bullet to the back of the head.

If you think that's cleaner than a beheading, you'd be in for quite a fucking surprise. A clean neck stump was far easier to stomach. Each kid had a small hole in the back of the head then you turned them around to find most of their face missing, with bits of brain falling out if you're really unlucky.

Rigor mortis hadn't set in, not that he ever got a stiff bunch at that place.

He lifted each body onto the table and scanned the bar code on the hips.

The first was a petite girl with dark-brown skin and small breasts; he couldn't tell if they were still budding.

Prisoner #11386117
Legal Name: Olivia Martinez
Age: 13
DoB: 8/1/2045
DoE: 6/21/2059
Gender: F
Ethnicity: Hispanic

The device showed a smiling girl with glasses and long wavy brown hair. Her hair was now a matted mess and there was a hole in her face where her nose should've been.

The next was a dark-haired boy with light-brown skin and most of the top left of his face missing.

Prisoner #11386120
Legal Name: Dan Trevino
Age: 14
DoB: 5/19/2045
DoE: 6/21/2059
Gender: M
Ethnicity: Mix (Caucasian, Hispanic)

The photo showed a grin on his young face. To Jackson's surprise, the boy spotted a smirk although he wasn't sure it wasn't just how his muscles ended up after he died.

A glance at his crotch made him question that assumption, with cum still leaking from his cock. It's also not an uncommon sight. Did he get hard knowing he was going to die surrounded by naked girls? Did he jack off or did was this part of his death spasms?

Picking up the next body answered his question.

Prisoner #11386118
Legal Name: Nicole Li
Age: 10
DoB: 5/20/2049
DoE: 6/21/2059
Gender: F
Ethnicity: Mix (Caucasian, Asian)

The photo showed a small girl with chestnut-brown pigtails waving.

Her she laid on his table, the top of her head blown off. Streams of cum ran down her chin and cheeks.

At his old job, Jackson would've chalked it up to a horny executioner or guard. The workload here left very little time for funny business, and only females were allowed to handle prisoners during the execution process. From the time the condemned kids left their cells until they showed up in his room, they did not interact with a single male except other prisoners.

"Lucky boy," he muttered.

It wasn't unusual for some of the prisoners to fuck each other but the execution process didn't leave much time. The only time he could imagine a couple getting to have some fun would be the few minutes they had in the waiting room.

The cum on her face seemed fresh enough that he wondered if Nicole managed to suck him off along the wall. It's not like the executioner would care, so long as they were both facing the wall when she got to them.

He spread her pussy lips; wet, but not a trace of semen. They really didn't get much time at all.

She was petite enough to fit in the body bag with her boyfriend, though it was a tight fit.

The next was a curvy girl with long red hair.

Prisoner #11386119
Legal Name: Angela Harper
Age: 15
DoB: 1/5/2044
DoE: 6/21/2059
Gender: F
Ethnicity: Caucasian

A pale-faced girl with green eyes looked back at him through the screen.

Her green eyes were gone. If he had to guess, they splattered against the wall along with the rest of her face and brain. All that he had in front of him was a cavity he could stuff a baseball inside.

Her boobs were large and perky. There was a firm bump on her stomach that would've made Jackson take a second look at her file when he first started working there. After years of getting two or three pregnant girls a week it didn't phase him anymore.

He grabbed the last one, a brown flat-chested girl, and had to hold in his lunch when her brain fell out of the top of her head.

"Lazy death sluts can't keep anything secure."

He tried to scoop her brain back into her skull only for it to slide out of his hands like a fucking bar of soap and bounce off his face. Spitting the salty slime out of his mouth, Jackson kicked it across the room.

Prisoner #11386121
Legal Name: Tanya Carter
Age: 9
DoB: 6/21/2050
DoE: 6/21/2059
Gender: F
Ethnicity: Mix (Caucasian, African)

"And I thought my last birthday was shitty."

He kissed the mound of her pussy and tossed her into a body bag.

Jackson started back to playing his game when he noticed the brain still laying against the wall. "Fucking hell!" He tossed it into the trash and kicked the basket under his desk.

>>26320
Wow, pretty good recreation of the original author's prose.

>>26336
Agreed

>>17296
definitly one of my favourite Sotorys of the storys here