Posted by Zed on September 25, 2003 at 03:58:48:
‘Here comes a candle to light you to bed
And here comes a chopper to chop off your head’
- Old English nursery rhyme
*
Burnished copper clouds vaulted across a sea of charcoal blue. Receding into the distance - as though going down with the sinking sun - the drab green hills of Execution Isle shimmered in the heat. Zed Bones took a swig of rum and coconut milk. With the last, arching rays of daylight, yellow lanterns began flickering all along the inhabited strand, and upon the ships at anchor. Just one light moving across on the sea must have been the Island’s longboat making its way back towards Freetown. The longboat would be empty at this hour, except for crew and Amazon guards. A lump rose in Zed’s throat and he swallowed hard. He tousled his shiny, black hair in defiance of an obsessive thought. It was difficult not to picture the naked boys and girls the boat had deposited on the shore of that dreadful island. Whipped and chained, they’d be in for more than their usual orgy of murder and shagging that night.
Zed sat back to watch the free world go by, sipping his cooling drink as ice white stars and the pink crescent moon appeared above the scene. But then his ears pricked at the cracks of the Amazons’ whips, a sound which carried far across the inky waters of the Straits. Each stroke of the longboat’s oars was marked by that merciless beat. Was such punishment called for? Were not the slaves as eager to row to the safely of dry land? Did they have nothing to look forward to in their bunkhouse? It was often said a hungry slave boy would lick a slave girl’s cunt for the fishy taste, that a slave girl would suck boy’s a cock for its yeast. These were the homespun comforts of slavery. Yes, it had to be preferable to transportation. Not for the first time, Zed weighed up the main alternative to that one-way longboat trip.
He gave a nod of acknowledgement, without glancing away from the boat. Bardolph Grossman, his accomplice, was standing in the veranda of the tavern. Bardolph was a shaven-headed hunk of inhumanity with a cold smile and hollow, menacing eyes. He grunted as he came over and sat down, plonking a whole tankard of neat rum on the table next to Zed’s modest three-fingers-and-five. Beyond grunting Bardolph rarely uttered a sound, not that Zed ever spoke much to him. Together they watched as the longboat moored and the surly Amazons shouted orders at their miserable charges. This wasn’t bad entertainment, the rowing detail containing worthy examples of captor and captive alike. At the head strutted a tall, sharp-breasted Amazon with a shock of red hair burning atop an angular, chestnut face. Taking up the rear was a younger specimen, one of those plump, short-arsed types - a real bombshell dyke. Every inch of her skin was tattooed in Celtic whorls.
The Amazons beat the limestone flags of the quay with their long bullwhips. At each crack the naked slaves flinched, as though blows could fall across their shoulders at any moment. In fact, even aimed at the ground those whips could still catch the slaves’ feet, so they lost no time and trotted in their chains past the onlookers in the tavern’s garden. From there, the column snaked up the lane that led into town.
Despite their misery - Zed noted with sly interest – most of the boy slaves had swollen lengths of cock swinging between their thighs. No doubt they anticipated a good sucking to round off their day’s work. The girl slaves were a mixed bunch. Half of them were old harlots who had let themselves go. Indeed, in recent days slavery had become the main retirement ground for the lesser rank of whore. Amongst the other females were several shag-worthy gone-chicks. One in particular stood out. She had fat, pouting lips and a broad, oval face that bore a rather stupefied expression; yet she was tall, curvaceous, and managed to walk with a bottom-swinging swagger that defied the hard day’s rowing she’d put in. A spring in her step and the sway of her arse gave Zed a very satisfying throb in his cock. Again he decided that ending up as a slave wouldn’t be so bad, if and when the worst came to the worst.
Bardolph had quaffed his rum and stood up as the last of these musing trickled from Zed’s mind. It was fully dark by now and high time the boys were off and about their business. They slunk round to the back of the tavern, to root in the canvassed nook where they stowed their gear. Zed pulled out his chalk pouch and several coils of rope, Bardolph an axe. The axe Bardolph chose was a long-handled job with a fine curved blade. He draped a piece of oilcloth over the head and tucked it under his right armpit. Bardolph limped off on this deadly decoy crutch, twisting his right leg and swinging his weight on the stout handle. Zed followed with the coils wrapped round his hips. Both wore loincloths of tattered leather, so any curious Amazons (or their gayboy lackeys) might mistake them for matelots or longshore Arabs.
Though Bardolph (the elder of the pair by a twelvemonth) led the way, it was Zed who steered their ship of foolery. They moved swiftly up the narrow lane, crossed the far end of Market Square and then slipped into the covered Walk that ran under the balcony of the Town Hall. Here about forty or fifty gone-chicks of various ages and types had taken up position. More prowling boys, on similar errands to Zed and Bardolph’s, were busy there too. A few were making the rounds in twos and threes, while most were stalking solo for the night. All had blades, ropes or strong potions concealed about their scanty rags. Bardolph slowed down as they passed along the line of gone-chicks while Zed made a preliminary sweep of the wares on offer.
It was an auspicious start to their evening’s work. Not only were numbers up on their last visit (a couple of nights before), the choice was better, too. All the gone-chicks wore fanciful decorations, and all had the laces of cunt purses dangling promiscuously between their thighs. Many chicks had ostrich or peacock feathers sticking out of their arseholes. Some had tied string nooses round their necks, or wore other tell-tale strings round their wrists or ankles. Others had painted red or black marks on various parts of their bodies. Most of the gone-chicks posed with one foot raised on a stone or log, self-consciously twirling the laces of their cunt purses(i) . Very few were old hags or the droop-bellied Mums that all too often plied their worn-out wares on the Walk of Doom.
As the boys veered round to make their return sweep, Zed abruptly broke step with his partner, his gaze captivated by a quite unsuitable target: a swarthy-skinned gone-chick with dreadlocks. She had tied fussy, hempen nooses around her neck and ankles, and flashed dark green, come-hither eyes that never failed to lure him. Satan! Did he have the right length of rope for her! In a trice, he would mooch her up to the edge of Windlass Hill – to the blasted ash tree that hung over a fifty-foot drop. He would lasso one end of the rope round a branch and noose her up with the other, as tight as she could take. Then slowly, ever so slowly, he would shag her Hindu fashion, his chalked hands cupping her taut little buttocks, his toes curling over the edge of the drop. When he’d felt her come three or four times - and she was scratching his back, screaming for more - he’d swing out, clutching her tightly in his arms, and let her hang good and quick. If he timed the drop right, his climax would arrive just as she went into her death throes.
But what was on earth was Zed doing, homing-in on a chick who wanted hanging tonight? Where would Bardolph fit into such a one-on-one scene? He moved smartly past the dreadlocked girl - whose green eyes were already reeling him in - and feigned no interest in her. With luck she wouldn’t get herself hung tonight and he could come back for her on his own.
Bardolph, sensing something was adrift, rested his free hand on his partner’s shoulder and the pair lurched along with the axe handle scraping unconvincingly at the flagstones. Old Zed Bones would have to choose a gone-chick fast, else they’d be making a conspicuous third sweep of the company. But no, that would not be necessary on this night of plenty. In fact, just there ahead of them, a much more likely-looking number was posing.
This particular gone-chick might have been a touch older than Zed. She was as tall as him, broad of chest with a cute pair of budding flaps. Round her neck she had traced, in the juice of betel nut, a thin red line. Her wrists and ankles bore cuffs of home-plaited sisal. Most noticeably, again with blood red juice, she had dyed her nipples and protruding cunt lips. The effect of these simple adornments was direct and to the point. The final touch – a long peacock feather sticking out of her arsehole – showed her to be the perfect choice for the boys tonight. Zed went up behind her, hooked his fingers on the laces that hung from her cunt and gave them a quick, proprietorial tug.
The naked girl’s mouth opened into a neat O. Clearly surprised but pleased by the suddenness of Zed’s approach, she had an open, doe-like expression that belied the stealthy lust that had brought her out onto the Walk tonight. Recovering her poise, she gave him a sweet, almost syrupy smile. Zed nodded to his companion, who was staring at the gone-chick’s neckline and scratching his crotch. She glanced towards Bardolph and he lifted the edge of the oilcloth, revealing the narrow, curved blade of the axe-head. The girl bit her lower lip and turned quickly back to Zed. She gulped. He raised his eyebrows and made a rope-knotting gesture and put his hands behind his back. She nodded eagerly, her eyes glazing over with excitement. From the neatness of her appearance, this was probably one of the ‘good wives’ - a seemingly straight girl partnering a loyal but boring hubby. Quite a few of her sort had been led astray by the reputation of boys like Messrs Bones and Grossman. With nods of agreement all round, Zed tugged hard on the laces and drew the moistened purse from the red lips of her cunt.
He fished out two small gold coins from the gone-chick’s purse: her life savings, as it were. She looked encouragingly at Zed as he held up the coins on the palm of his hand. Bardolph snatched one and swallowed it immediately. Zed shrugged and did likewise. The girl cringed… then smiled at them, nervously. She was obviously unfamiliar with the practice. A boy’s stomach was safest place for gold when he was about his job, where it could easily get lost. Safely swallowed, the coin would be shat out the next day, providing rum and food.
They pushed the gone-chick, who was now technically theirs to do with as they pleased, into the nearest side street. In the gloom Zed uncoiled two lengths of rope from under his loincloth. He securely bound the wrists and ankles of the chick, and they lifted and carried her between them. It was a long way from the township, through the back streets and trees to their forest den. They marched with Zed in the lead – happy and surefooted in his stride.
*
For twenty-five or thirty minutes they followed a succession of lonely paths through the forest gloom. It might have seemed uncanny how Zed knew which way to turn at each fork in the path, but the route had become second nature to him. The girl began to struggle after a while, then to whimper and gasp. It was impossible to be comfortable in her position, though the boys held her firmly enough. She would be rapidly losing her ‘good wife’ manners. With luck, by the time they got her to the den, she would be more than a little frisky.
There was nothing like playing it rough with a gone-chick who was hot to be shagged and passionate about losing her head. This one would want the shagging to go on long and hard, and in regular style – straight up the cunt, that is. When she had climaxed three or four times, Bardolph, who had been standing over the kneeling pair with the axe, would bring the blade down on her neck - and take over from Zed. Bardolph was strictly an arse boy. He liked nothing better than to shag a headless, still-warm corpse in its virgin arse. Gone-chicks who put peacock feathers up their holes exchanged whispered stories about boys like him. They might never consent to hubby buggering them in life, but the thought of a stranger doing it after death seemed to push them right over the edge.
At last they reached the clearing and laid the chick out. The ground was liberally strewn with sawdust and straw. Bardolph busied himself uncovering their solid mahogany block(ii) (it was concealed under a pile of palm leaves) while Zed undid the ropes. The chick would be on all fours, bound by wrist and ankle to four metal rings – two at the front corners of the block, and two more attached to stakes driven into the ground at the rear. Her neck would be clamped down, with her chin fitting into a groove carved out of the chopping end of the block. Her belly would rest on the main body of the wood, her arse and cunt thrusting into space. Her little flaps of breast would splay out on either side of the block, within easy tweaking distance of Zed’s expert claws.
The pair grabbed the gone-chick, who struggled and cried (somewhat insincerely) as they lifted and tied her into position. She quickly settled down after her wrists and ankles were secured. But when it came to fixing the neck clamp, she spoke up for the first time,
“Is that really necessary?” She had a rather posh voice, typical of the ‘good wife’. “Please, I have to see what you’re doing to me!”
Tossing the clamp over his shoulder – it wasn’t an important point - Bardolph took up position at her side. He balanced the weight of the axe only a hair’s breath from her neck. The chick was able to turn her head and see him at work. When she saw the fine curved axe head, and the size and shape of Bardolph’s erect cock – which was dressed far to the left - she let out a great gasp of awe. A stream of hot piss ran down her thighs, making the straw and sawdust damp between her knees.
The two boys proceeded with their work at a relaxed and leisurely pace: Bardolph suspending the axe over the gone-chick’s neck and occasionally brushing the well-sharpened blade against the goose bumps of her downy skin; Zed kneeling between her pinioned legs and fingering the baby-skin folds of her hairless cunt. The girl groaned, almost honked as Zed finally slipped his long, flat-headed cock into her yawning, slippery cunt. He leaned forward to pinch her nipples and began, with a series of slow, regular strokes, to shag her deep and hard. Her first orgasm arrived within a minute, followed by a second climax close on its heels. These were jerky, barely satisfying tumults, merely whetting her appetite for more. After allowing the chick a few moments to regain her composure, Zed speeded-up his strokes somewhat and she settled down to enjoy some serious doggy-style shagging. By now she was letting out loud, shameless gasps at each stroke.
Matters advanced gradually uphill... until sweat was running down both the shagging bodies, making them glisten in the moonlight. As Zed’s thrusts increased in pace and depth, the gone-chick’s face crimsoned over, her lips pouted and puckered and her eyes rolled this way and that. She arched her back and pushed her toes through the straw and sawdust, digging the nails into the peaty earth of the forest floor. Her big climax was coming sooner than she’d hoped – it always did. Zed, too, was ready to start knocking on heaven’s door. Another few strokes and his whole body would go juddering out of control...
These effects were not lost on Bardolph, standing patiently, watching his companion shag the young world-weary chick, while balancing the heavy axe blade carefully over the curve of her shapely neck. Knowing his next move would push the tumescent chick into the convulsions of orgasm, Bardolph swung the chopper back over his head… ready to bring it down decisively. The girl, catching the movement in the corner of her eye, extended her neck and swallowed a great gulp. And then, just before the crucial moment arrived, to the total surprise of all three participants, their game - as it were – came to a sudden, bathetic halt!
A pair of lassos, thrown expertly from the cover of the trees, landed neatly over Zed’s shoulders and the blade of Bardolph’s axe. The nooses were tightened by short tugs from their throwers, then hauled in by many pairs of hands. Bardolph’s axe was plucked out of his grip, while Zed – blubbing on the edge of the sublime eruption - found himself jerked completely off his mount. He flew through the air for a moment and landed sprawled out on the straw about six feet behind the block. Moreover, the gone-chick herself - even less aware of what was happening than the two assassins, yet conscious that both cock-and-axe-wielders had somehow vanished – let out a squeal of horror and outrage. Her execution scene had been abruptly terminated just when the proverbial dam was about to burst.
The team of Amazons who had perpetrated this feat of decapitus interruptus – acting in the name of the Freetown Governess - now swooped en masse into Zed and Bardolph’s den. All three of the criminals (for so the chick was considered along with the boys) were clapped into irons. The Amazon’s leader, who was not much older than the gone-chick herself (though a good deal burlier), had nothing but contempt for their criminal activities,
“Have no fear, by this time tomorrow you boys will be on Execution isle! And you my dear,” She pulled at the short, curly hair of the gone-chick, “Will be foot-flogged and sold into slavery. Take them down to the Tower!”
*
The Amazon leader’s words were prophetic, if not strictly accurate. The gone-chick was not exactly sold into slavery, which was considered too soft an option for one who had fallen so far. After torture (an hour of the predicted bastinado, during which she begged repeatedly to be strangled) she finally succumbed and confessed her will to live. She was branded ‘S’ on the buttocks, then removed to the notorious Treadmill, there to serve a non-commutable Life sentence(iii) . These proceedings were enacted in full sight of the two boys, who were left hanging in chains from the torture chamber wall.
Bardolph Grossman was next to be tortured. He was racked for over two hours, and showed great resilience - before cracking and begging to be hanged for his crimes. As necrophilia and sodomy, alongside murder and rape (albeit only as an accomplice), featured prominently in his confessions, the punishment had to be more severe than hanging. In fact, Bardolph’s crimes were considered so great by the Amazons that he was sentenced to the most sever penalty of all: impalement at the quay of Execution Isle. This sentence was to be effected immediately on arrival at the island, and so without further ceremony he was branded ‘I’ and sent down to the longshore for despatch by the dawn boat.
The torture of Zed Bones was a more drawn out affair, lasting for the rest of the night and well into the next morning. As a rapist, and mere accomplice to murder, he might have cheated death and been sold into slavery (like he’d fantasised about the evening before). To aid his confession, he was given fifty lashes on the back and buttocks, during which he pleaded guilty to a dozen or so rapes - and begged to be punished accordingly. The chief Amazon torturer was not satisfied with this outcome. For some time the Governess’ Office had been seeking a solo killer, a rope artist with a particularly high rate of murders. The ropes found about Zed Bones matched the type used by this prolific killer. It seemed likely that Bones, knowing full well he was likely to be apprehended at some time, had fallen in with an axe-wielding sodomite in order to give himself a cover and save, as it were, his own neck.
After his ordeal with the lash, the chief torturer decided to play along with his story and so pretended to offer him a bargain(iv) . She claimed that in order to clear up some unsolved rape mysteries, she wanted to know where he obtained the ropes he used to tie up his victims. If he could supply that information, then he would be merely branded ‘S’ and sold into slavery. Zed, having got his hopes up, let out the useless (and indeed true) piece of information that the ropes were stolen from various boat yards (places where he had put in casual longshore shifts). After he named the yards, he was left hanging on the torture chamber wall to await branding.
After breakfast, when the chief torturer returned with the irons, she began burning dozen of small marks all over his back, buttocks, legs, arms, the soles of his feet and even his face. Soon Zed was reduced to a gibbering wreck, pleading with her to let him die rather than continue. And what method of death would he prefer? The noose? And should he be shagged as he dangled? These questions had the desired effect on Zed’s, by then, deranged mind. He burst into tears and confessed to hanging and or strangling dozens of gone-chicks.
It was mid-morning, too late to take for the first boat to Execution Isle. Zed was scheduled to cross at midday. His sentence… to be hanged, of course (an ‘H’ was branded on the cheeks of his arse). But, unlike his friend Bardolph (who by then was already writhing in agony, impaled upon a pike at the quay of Execution isle), Zed would undergo the regular five days and nights of Ordeal, before his life would be wrung out on one of the island’s gallows.
*
At the stroke of noon, fifteen condemned boys and girls were herded aboard the longboat under a scorching sun. Among them was a group of underage prostitutes who had been caught poisoning the customers of an uptown brothel. They were a cheerful enough bunch. Ordeal and Death – in their case Execution was to be by drowning (they were branded ‘D’) - appeared to be nothing more than another lark to them. The word was they would be kept together with others of their kind on the island, lest any older prisoners tried to take advantage of them. Take advantage? That was a laugh! Zed thought he had never met such a bunch of cutthroats.
For the trip across, he was chained to four other lads of similar age to himself. Five girls, again of about the same age, made up the rest of the consignment. All ten were for the gallows, and rumour had it they would be hanged together. Since no one had ever returned from Execution Isle alive, only the Devil knew what their Ordeals would be. Still, there were five days and nights to go before they were strung up. He sighed at his fate, and eyed the girls. Most of them looked liked they needed a good shagging, and since they were going to hanged anyway...
It took an hour to row across the Straits to Execution Isle. Dilapidated huts with palm-leaf roofs nestled under the trees at the water’s edge. Dug-out canoes drawn up on the beach looked as though they hadn’t been used in years. Even the sea had a strange, stagnant smell to it(v) . Along the quay a line of pikes, six feet high and four inches thick, bore the slumped bodies of the Impaled. After disembarkation Zed, still chained to his new companions, shuffled past the familiar figure of Bardolph Grossman. Bardolph was still twitching and groaning, blood and shit oozing from his pierced arse. But his eyes were unseeing. He had been stuck up there for five or six hours by that time, and would be dead by sunset. On other pikes along the quay they saw carrion birds pecking at the skeletal remains of previous victims. Truly, being greeted by the impaled was a sure reminder of what they were there for.
Their Ordeal would begin at once. The ten boys and girls of the detail were unchained, issued with wooden spades and marched through the thick forest. After covering a mile or so in the sweltering heat, they arrived at a wide clearing. What greeted them there could only be described as a human shambles – an arena where a dozen beheadings had taken place the previous night. Flies buzzed angrily in the shimmering air and the bloated bodies stank. The party was set to work digging a mass grave, six feet deep and ten feet wide. Everyone was sick, and the smell of vomit only added to the putrescence of the macabre scene. Working through the very worst of the afternoon humidity they lived only for the paltry handouts of water they received. It took the sweltering boys and girls most of the afternoon to complete the burial.
But that wasn’t the end of their day’s work. Off they marched again, and just as they thought they were heading for food and shelter, they were halted, issued with saws and machetes and ordered to clear a patch of forest. Then, when they had finished that enormous task, they were given only dry bread and water. Dusk fell quickly. Instead of being marched to a rest camp, they were told to stop where they were for the night and make the best of it. They were spread-eagled, chained and staked to the ground - then left alone till dawn.
*
One of the girls, whose name was Clizia, still retained her sense of humour, a remarkable feat after all they had been through,
“Satan, did I sleep the sleep of the unjust!”
Which perfectly summed up their condition. During the night, no one had got more than a few flitting moments of rest. It was the heat, the humidity, the smells and the strange flashes of distant lights; but most of all it was the awful noises. Firstly there were the wild things that scurried about, flapping their wings, rubbing their legs together, shrieking or cackling. Then there came human sounds – groans, cries for help, thuds of axes, twangs of rope, great pants and screams that were either of orgasm or agony – no one could decide which. In between listening, the boys and girls had lain awake talking to each other about their crimes. Whether they talked fact or fiction didn’t seem to matter. Sometimes laughing, occasionally crying, they just tried to keep themselves amused, keep themselves from going mad. The worst was they were chained up and staked out in such a way that they could not even scratch their hides, let alone suck or toss each off. Their only relief came through words.
At dawn, fresh Amazons arrived and released them. They were run through the forest and down to the shore. There they bathed and cleaned themselves up, before being fed on a little bread and water. Expecting to be given another gruesome task, the group was quite surprised to be left sitting, doing nothing on the beach for an hour or so, until a senior guard came down to give them a talk. This short, shaven-headed Amazon looked them over with contempt,
“You know you are all going to hang in four day’s time. Believe it or not, that is a privileged position to be in. Think it over. No one else knows for sure when they are going to die - not even one of your victims could have been as sure as you are this morning.
“But before you die, we have a few things lined up for you. First, you will watch other prisoners go through their Ordeals and Executions. You will see that punishment - here on Execution Isle - is not done by guards, but by the prisoners themselves. Surprised? Listen carefully.
“After you have watched many Ordeals and Executions, you will be put to work, first torturing, then executing other prisoners. You will work in the groups you are in now. This is work you are already familiar with – inflicting pain and killing, so don’t pretend to be squeamish about it. Get on with the job in an orderly way. Enjoy it, if you can! Believe me, there is little else to enjoy on Execution Isle. You will get no rum and coconut milk here!
“I will say nothing about the tasks ahead of you, today and tomorrow you will see enough with your own eyes. Yesterday the ten of you buried a dozen executed prisoners – then prepared the ground for a new Ordeal and Execution arena. Burying twelve was slightly more than your quota, so you don’t owe us anything on that score. I will say this, though. Given your natures, I don’t think you will find anything more demanding than yesterday’s work – until it is time for your own punishments to commence. Good luck to you!
*
For the rest of that day, and much of the night, they were herded together with other groups of prisoners and marched to various arenas in the forest. Here they lay down on the perimeters and watched as prisoners tortured other boys and girls – in a savage but interesting style. The condemned prisoners were hog-tied(vi) . That is, they were suspended by block and tackle from a low gallows and in this position swung about in bizarre sex routines resembling a trapeze act. Those that proved unequal to the task, for example boys that could not keep their cocks hard, or girls whose cunts became clamped up, were simply left to hang and die. So this was the famous Ordeal, of which they had heard so many rumours! All who watched were highly aroused by the sight, during which onlookers indulged in masturbation, cock and cunt sucking, and shagging (in the cunt and arsehole).
The next day and night they were marched back to the same arenas they had visited the day before. Again, they were allowed stretch out on the peripheries, this time to watch executions taking place. Execution was carried out by blade or by noose, and in the original groups. That was why equal numbers of boy and girl groups were billeted together.
Both Ordeals and Executions were orderly affairs, with little involvement of the guards. The participants were, after all, experienced sex killers who knew instinctively what to do at all times. Another feature was the lack of restraining devices, which were only employed when their use enhanced the sensations of those concerned; for example, a girl who was going to be hanged was blindfolded and had her hands tied behind her back, while another was hog-tied and hanged (by the neck) in a kneeling position; a boy and a girl had only their ankles tied together before being beheaded, while another couple were strapped back to front and beheaded with a single large sized axe.
Most boys and girls for beheading were placed on a standard block, where they shagged in much the same fashion Zed had shagged his and Bardolph’s victims. When mutual orgasm was reached, the girl was decapitated by an axeman. The difference was that the boy - kneeling upright behind her - had his head struck off by a girl wielding a broadsword. After beheading, the bodies were abused by the executioners - the sword-girls employing special strap-on, cunt-hook dildos to shag the headless boys in the arse. There was an element of mockery about these shags, as prisoners (such as Bardolph Grossman) who had actually committed this type of crime, were inevitably impaled on arrival at Execution Isle.
Many couples were beheaded in reverse fashion. The boy lay with his back on a longer, coffin-shaped block and the girl squatted over him. When the final climaxed was reached, the axe was brought down on the boy’s throat, while the girl was decapitated by sword. It appeared that prisoners had a degree of choice in how exactly they were beheaded. Prisoner’s for beheading had “B” branded on their arses. None of the boys or girls in Zed’s group had Bs, which seemed a pity.
Hangings also were done in mixed couples, and employed a special double noose. The boy and girl to be hanged were noosed up and then mounted a stool. The short rope was attached to the gallows and they were free to commence shagging in their own time. When it was clear that a mutual orgasm was in progress, the stool was pulled from under the couple. With virtually no drop and no extra weight, the couple hanged fairly slowly - but, if the prisoners and executioners had timed it right, the combined orgasm and death-throes would give the couple an extra tug on the rope.
Zed and his companions were awed by what they witnessed during their second and third days on the island. There was plenty of time to chat between Ordeals and Executions, and then everyone agreed the certainty of pain and death was scary, but they all appreciated the way prisoners carried out their duties.
The ten continued to spend their nights chained and staked out at the arena they had cleared themselves. There was no such thing as a rest camp! But as time went on, and exhaustion set in, it became easier to sleep out in the open. Each morning they were marched down to the sea to bathe.
*
On their fourth day and night they had to work as torturers and executioners. Zed laid on his back and was shagged by a girl who was hog-tied and lowered onto him. She seemed to enjoy most of her Ordeal, though the shag lasted for about an hour and she went through a lot of pain from the ropes round her neck and wrists. When they released the girl, she was still not satisfied and gestured to Zed. Their companions allowed them to go off and shag again in the forest. This time he held her neck in an arm-lock and shagged her doggy-style in the arse. He had to be careful not to strangle her completely. He did his best to please the girl, but after coming another three times she still wanted more. The girl would have to wait until her execution.
Later Zed took part in a beheading, though not in his familiar role. Taking Bardolph’s part - as axeman - he stood over a girl who was kneeling at the block, caressing her neck with the blade. When she was thoroughly shagged by her boy he brought the axe down and chopped her head off with a single blow. At the same time Clizia took off the boy’s head with a sword. Zed positioned the headless girl’s body on a pile of corpses and shagged her in the arse. It started out as a mock shagging, but he was pleasantly surprised to find himself enjoying it towards the end. As he shagged the headless girl, Clizia strapped on a dildo and shagged the headless boy in the arse. They were shagging side by side, and kept looking at each other and smiling. They came at about the same time, throwing themselves over the dead bodies of their victims and panting. Execution Isle was an orgy of sex and death such as he had never dreamed of. It was just a pity it had to end in your own death.
*
On the fifth and final day, Zed and his companions were to have their Ordeals and then be hanged. The one detail to be sorted out was who their partners were to be. By this time Zed had sucked off, wanked off and shagged all five girls in his group, including Clizia, the girl he had worked with on the day before. Although he a preference for hanging short, tawny-skinned chicks, it was to be the medium height and slightly plump Clizia who clicked with him on his final occasion. There was something waifish about this young thief and sex strangler, whose enthusiasm for murder was no less than her sex drive. They began their last day holding hands and fondling each other, and found they could hardly bear to be parted as the moments ticked by.
For their Ordeals, of course, they were separated. Clizia was swung horizontal with her legs pulled apart, a standing boy shagging her in the arse. He had a huge cock and Zed was grateful to him for concentrating on her arse and leaving her cunt to him. Zed, meantime, was suspended above a girl with enormous tits. Her girlfriends swung him back and forwards with his cock channelled between her soft, oily tits. With great difficulty he stopped himself from climaxing, though the girls stroked his flanks and tickled his balls doing their very best to make him come. The ropes cutting into his neck and wrists helped to take his mind of the heat in his cock head.
After the Ordeals, the five couples drew lots for the order of hanging. Zed and Clizia drew third place. It was already late afternoon, which meant the hangings wouldn’t start until after nightfall. All executions were done at a leisurely pace, and nothing at all happened until a full company of onlookers had assembled. Since fellow prisoners were in charge of the whole process, there was no need for physical or procedural restraint, other than anything that would enhance the experience. Physical items included lengths of rope or chain, whips, arse plugs and nipple clamps. Procedurally, discipline might be imposed by the executioners – or left to the condemned themselves. For example, one couple to be hanged stood on the stool holding whips, and they beat each other’s arses before shagging commenced.
Those waiting to be hanged had no duties other than to lie on the ground near the tripod of the gibbet and watch. For anyone as deeply engrossed in the subject as the condemned, this was not an unpleasant way to spend their last hour or so, though it was unfair on those couples who had drawn first place. But who said there was anything fair about being hanged? Zed sat with his back to a tree and Clizia lay between his legs. As they watched the proceedings, he gently pressed his hard cock against her back while reaching forward to cup her tits and stroke her clit. Clizia’s heart fluttered with many little orgasms, while Zed contented himself with the strong but steady heartbeat of prolonged arousal.
The two couples that went before them shagged long and slow on the stool. Both tried to stave off the inevitable for as long as possible, but eventually both gave in to the inexorable depravity of full orgasm. When they were in full throe, the executioners did their work: one giving the writing bodies a judicious shove, the other pulling the stool from under their feet. With no real slack to the rope, the couples hardly dropped. Instead of their necks breaking, they were stretched to the limit. Their orgasming bodies immediately switched into the dance of death, pointed toes stretching out for that oh-so near, but oh-so distant patch of solid ground. Soon piss and shit were pouring down their legs and their faces had turned from bright red to a deep purple. They clawed at each other as they hung, grasping for support. Of course, this only increased the pressure. Pretty soon their jerks became so violent it was more than their hearts could take. After that their shagged out bodies swung limp and lifeless. They were left to hang for half an hour to make sure they were dead. Then the executioners released the rope and the bodies were laid out for inspection. Hanged prisoners were not violated and fresh straw and sawdust was sprinkled over their piss and shit.
Soon enough it was time for Zed and Clizia to mount the stool. They blew farewell kisses to their friends who still waiting to be hung in the fourth and fifth slots. Zed dipped his hands in a pouch of chalk, and an executioner dusted Clizia’s arse with chalk, too. This was so Zed could get a good grip on her arse as he shagged her. The special double noose was placed over their heads and drawn tight at their necks(vii) . The seat of the stool was very narrow, with barely enough foot room for one person to stand. This meant the taller, stronger partner was expected to take the other’s weight. Once in position they were then free to commence shagging in their own time. With the help of both executioners, Zed took Clizia’s full weight, balancing her thighs on the tops of his legs. He held her under the arse while she clutched him with her arms under his armpits and her hands hooking onto his shoulders.
When the rope was tightened and tied off to the gallows, Clizia raised her buttocks and then lowered her cunt onto Zed’s erect cock. Immediately, she started shagging him furiously. In her excitement she seemed to have forgotten that this could bring matters to a speedy end. Only with great difficulty did Zed manage to slow the girl down, firstly by letting her have a couple of quick orgasms; then by steadying her arse and withdrawing his cock so that only the head was held between the lips of her cunt. This required great strength and balance on his part, which only long experience of erotic hanging had taught him. Clizia, angry and frustrated by his moves at first, gradually cooled off enough to begin shagging again in a more measured, reasonable fashion.
Zed’s final shag was a worthy culmination to his career as a sex killer. He went into it highly eroticised and, after overcoming the initial hastiness on Clizia’s part, he shagged the girl with as much artistry as passion. On the long plateau of the shag his mind was free to review many of the scenes that had aroused him in life - both in the distant and the near past. Towards the edge of the plateau, his heart raced as he considered the extreme eroticism of his present situation. On the steep climb to orgasm he felt a cool breeze on his loins and back – which he knew came from profound perspiration. And on the final few thrusts he experienced that extra swelling in his cock, which presages a truly great orgasm.
When he heard Clizia’s groaning love noises his heart rejoiced – she was surrendering to the Supreme Climax. A few sweet thrusts later and they were both flexing involuntarily, Zed’s triumphant cock shooting Clizia’s burning cunt brimful of hot milky sperm. The girl’s palpitations seemed to compliment his own exactly, sucking the root right out of him. His knees gave out and his whole frame tottered on the stool…
Until all too soon the pleasant throbs of mutual orgasm were interrupted by a judicial shove and the dive into footloose space. Immediately the pair’s necks jerked on the rope, and Zed felt a sharp tearing of muscles up and down his body. The mind-bending stricture of the noose was next, and then the panic of asphyxiation. Eventually, after what felt like an aeon of desperate struggle, Zed’s body started to numb down and cease moving. With his senses dimming he became a lone spirit, tumbling into the black hole of oblivion.
Footnotes:
(i)The cunt purse was a small leather bag containing gold or silver coins. All a boy had to do, when he wanted to proposition a girl, was to tug on her laces and check that the money – his reward for the night’s work – was enough.
(ii)One of these amateur execution blocks, hewn from the root bowl of a single felled tree, is kept in the Fiji Islands Museum of Fetish Art.
(iii)The Treadmill, in fact, was an apt home for a gone-chick, and this particular female lived on for several months. The Mill, with the vibrations of its primitive machinery and many hiding places, afforded ample opportunities for lewd behaviour by the inmates. Zed’s girl soon learned to profit by the threats and opportunities posed by its arcane regime, and so by the time of her death she was said to be more or less mistress of the place, taking her pick of the newbies and initiating them into various depraved acts.
(iv)The fact was that this dyke was a secret rope artist herself (a vigilante, no less) who would have liked nothing better than to stretch Zed’s neck while enjoying the jerk of his death throes in her cunt.
(v)Execution Isle was a peaceful fishing community in former days.
(vi)The form of hog-tie used in the Ordeal at Execution Isle involved a three way tie between the ankles, wrists and neck. The neck tie ended with a noose, and suspension ropes were attached to both ties. This meant that anyone left hanging for long enough (that is, without the support or sexual congress) would asphyxiate.
(vii)The double noose was designed to keep the prisoners’ heads together. Even while hanging the lips and tongues were held within touching distance.
"Execution Isle"
Copyright Zed Bones, 2003