“Well let’s get you up and swinging then.” He said sharply. He gestured towards his assistant. “I don’t won’t any mess with this one,” he said. The assistant nodded and Jenny could see that she was taking a tampon from the bag she carried. She was pretty, dressed only in a little skirt; her breasts exposed with sort of soft little buds for nipples.
“I’m sorry,” was all the girl said as she pushed the tampon into its place. “It’ll help;” she paused once it was in and the guard fastened the final ropes around Jenny thighs, even as the executioner noosed her and pulled the rope a little tighter. “I hope those leg ropes are tight enough for you,” he asked. “We wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.” He laughed and walked over towards the release lever which would operate the gallows.
“It’s a pity that we couldn’t have enjoyed each others company a bit more,” he said but Jenny could see that he had released the lever and felt herself falling. He was right. The man may have been a sadist but the pain as the rope bit into her neck was agony and oddly she was suddenly glad of the tampon as she felt her bladder begin to leak a bit but oddly, even as she dropped, she realised that he could still breathe a little. She began to wheeze against the pressure of the rope, jerking her legs forward, then bending them at the knee to ease the pressure of the noose so that she could draw the oxygen into her lungs, even if, each time she danced, the noose closed a little tighter against her slender neck. Her breasts felt too heavy and she wished that she had worn a bra.
She was sweating now, the pain within her chest almost unbearable; hr earlier sensation that she could still breath dissipating. Her vision seemed to be getting out of focus, as if everything at its edges were suddenly black; glimpses of vision. The Executioner smiling, grinning as he enjoyed her death, even as the warmth between her thighs seemed to become more intense. She began to tire, her legs, dangling now jerking spasmodically as she orgasmed.
One of the guards suddenly pulling on her legs. She thought she could hear the executioner shouting at the man.
“Pull on her until she passes out” he said. “She’s going to cum, if we’re not careful,” he added but Jenny could no longer really care. Only the warmth between her legs seemed to matter. She could feel her legs and arms twitching a bit; the fabric of her baby doll sticking to her.
She was already dying.
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