Dasala was a remote island, but a much-desired vacation spot for Westerners looking for beaches and a place where American dollars were worth quite a lot indeed. Dasala's isolated location had condemned it to being a Third World Country, and its government was highly corrupt. Being a small island nation, they were particularly strict about drug trafficking, wanting to keep themselves a desirable vacation destination, not a drug-fueled wasteland.
Which was how Kate, Lillian, and Rachel, three vacationing American girls, fell afoul of the Dasalan government. They had met some local boys at a bar, drunkenly agreed to take some backpacks across town, and suddenly found themselves arrested for possession of heroin.
Their trial was swift and merciless. The American embassy's representative could only shake his head sadly as the three girls were sentenced to death by hanging. Every visiting tourist was briefed about the dangers of accepting packages from strangers, of the brutal sentence that came with possession of any drugs at all, even marijuana, but every year some young American thought they could get away with it and that their nationality would protect them.
The prison Kate, Lillian, and Rachel were housed in had no long-drop gallows. The funds for such an apparatus never arrived, or were diverted by the prison warden for other things. Considering the warden's frequent comments that spending money on a long-drop gallows would only be a "waste" when some hooks in the ceiling, short lengths of rope, and a few stools would more than suffice, many thought that the warden had probably used the money for other prison amenities. Besides, the warden said, hanging was meant to be a painful and humiliating punishment: the long-drop, with its calculations and lengths and quick snap of the neck, hardly constituted that.
After their last meals, the young women were lined up, chained at the ankles and wrists, and led from their cells to the execution chamber. The concrete floor was cold on their bare feet. Kate could still see flecks of red nailpolish on her toes, from what seemed like years ago. Lillian tried to run, twisting away from the guards and stumbling down the hall, but they caught her, slapped her hard, and dragged her into the room.
Rachel counted ten hooks in the ceiling, large industrial-strength metal things, well worn from many hangings. Only three had ropes attached to them today, three waiting nooses dangling over three low stools. There was an empty hook between each noose, providing ample space for the condemned's struggles. Rachel wondered, horrified, whether all ten hooks had ever been used at once, and thought of how crowded that must have been, ten prisoners bumping together, kicking and flailing and gasping.
Her guard saw her staring and laughed, pushing her towards the noose on the far left. "Last year, there was a failed revolution. The warden decided hanging all at once, men and women together, would save time and money. Silly to hang six men, wait, and then four women. So, six men, four women, all at once. Took a long time."
The other two guards heard him and laughed, nodding in agreement. The guards forced the women up onto their stools: Rachel on the left, Lillian in the middle, and Kate on the right. Lillian started to cry, begging, pleading, until her guard slapped her again, this time on her ass. She continued to cry, but silently. Lillian shuddered as her guard slid the noose around her neck, gasping as he tightened it around her throat.
Kate's guard raked his hands over her ample chest, grinning with yellowing, snaggled teeth. She recoiled as best she could, perched on her stool, chained bare feet squirming. He yanked the noose down around her neck, tightening it so that she was forced up onto the balls of her feet to keep from strangling prematurely. He gave her one last grope before stepping back.
Rachel's guard kept talking as he fitted the noose around her throat, adjusting it so that the knot was at the back of her neck, twisting and tweaking it just so.
"Executions used to be public, outside up on a hill, hundreds would turn out to see. Then cellphones started taking pictures, and video, and the government had to put the exectuions inside. Now nobody's allowed to watch." He almost sounded sad. Rachel was disgusted that anybody would miss such a spectacle.
"Hurry it up, I'm hungry!" complained Lillian's guard.
Rachel stared. The guards were leaving?
Her guard noted her stunned expression and chuckled. "Told you, nobody's allowed to watch. We have breakfast while we wait."
"And if we come back, and one of you is still alive, well … then you get reprieved." Kate's guard grinned. "Hard-labor for twenty years, instead of the noose. Good luck, ladies!"
The women glanced at each other. Nobody had told them that.
"How long …" Rachel asked, throat dry.
"Twenty minutes?" asked Lillian's guard.
"Yeah, twenty minutes." Rachel's guard nodded.
Kate's guard laughed. "They won't last ten, look at their skinny necks! Come on, we eat."
And with that, the guards left, slamming the door with little ceremony.
At first the women thought that the guards had forgotten something. Then, with horror, they realized that the floor was beginning to tilt. None of them had noticed that their stools were on wheels, but as the stools began to slide away from them the women frantically tried to cling to the wooden footholds. With their ankle chains complicating the process, and the smooth wood providing no real hold, each woman slipped into the air as their stools rolled away to the far end of the room.
Kate was the first to start struggling. She kicked and twisted, painted toes pointing straight down, straining to reach the floor. Her chains rattled, the ankle chain scraping the floor as she stretched and gasped.
Lillian and Rachel were soon struggling too. Lillian moaned, spluttering and gasping for air as the noose cinched tight around her throat. Her chained wrists flailed as she desperately tried to reach up to the noose, to no avail.
Rachel stretched, trying to keep as still as possible. Twenty minutes. If she was careful, she could do that, right? She drew in a ragged breath, the noose tight around her neck, making her tongue feel thicker than usual. She realized, with a start, that there was a clock on the far wall. It read 10:01.
Kate rocked back and forth, swinging like a pendulum, trying to break the rope or snap the hook with the force of her body weight. Her chains slid along the floor, her feet mere inches away from the ground. Her chest thrust out, almost like she were dancing in a club.
Lillian was panicking, twisting and turning almost completely around, flying in half-circles as her legs paddled the air. She jumped up, managing to get in a great gasp of air, before falling and panicking again as the noose cinched an inch tighter as a result of her jump.
Kate was the first to go. At 10:09 she slumped suddenly, chest heaving soundlessly, feet fluttering, chains rustling … and then she was gone. The tang of ammonia filled the room as her prison-issued cotton pants soaked with her bladder's final release. Rachel realized that the floor was slanted not just to slide the stools away, but to make such clean up easier. She could see a drain at the far corner of the room, presumably for that purpose.
Kate's passing made Lillian all the more frantic. She twisted and kicked, desperate to break free of the noose, or perhaps to break the hook she was hanging from. Her gasps were loud and painful sounding, rattling wet noises that Rachel could barely stand to hear.
Rachel herself was squirming now, trying to find a less excruciating way to wear the noose. But with each movement she made, the noose dug tighter into her skin. She was wheezing now, despite her best efforts, and the noose was forcing her tongue out of her mouth. Saliva dripped down her face, mortifying Rachel. Her head was pounding, she knew her face must be very red by now, with the noose constricting the flow of blood.
Lillian wasn't struggling anymore, now she was stretching, legs parted slightly as she reached down, her body weight and the noose working together to elongate her neck. She squeaked with shame, and a damp spot appeared on her pants, urine trickling down her legs and onto the floor. Still, Lillian strained, trying to reach the ground, perhaps deliriously thinking that she could. She shivered, bouncing slightly as she tried to get another gasp of air, but she'd wasted too much energy and it was too late for another jump. Her mouth gaped in a silent cry, and then she, too, slumped.
The time was now 10:17.
Rachel couldn't breathe. There was no way she could get air into her lungs. Her lungs burned, filled with stale air. Her tongue was heavy, lolling out of her mouth and dripping saliva everywhere. Her feet traced circles in the air, chain rattling, as she tried to stay calm. She could survive this, she had to, three more minutes … they'd be at the door soon, maybe now, about to open it and cut her down and get the horrible noose off of her neck …
Rachel struggled and kicked, limbs working of their own accord, desperate flailing that only tired her. Well, they were about to come get her, what was the harm?
10:20 came, but the door didn't open. Rachel's hands clenched and unclenched in silent agony, chest heaving, legs squirming.
10:21.
10:22.
10:23.
Rachel felt her bladder release, felt the unpleasant dampness spread down her legs. A final indignity to the horrible proceedings, one last humiliation she'd been subjected to …
10:24.
Rachel could barely see the clock now. Her vision was darkening. They had lied, those horrible guards had lied. She could have lived, could have lived out her days on a chain gang, escaped and made it to the American embassy and been sent home …
At 10:26, the door opened. The guards checked the pulses of the three women, and, finding none, slapped each other on the back. One paid another five American dollars, for betting that at least one would survive. Then they went to the far end of the room, carefully avoiding the damp spots on the floor from the women's final releases, and removed the video camera from its hiding spot. The warden had been very clear: nobody was to physically watch the executions … but taping them was another matter entirely. The warden paid well for such footage, reselling it to private collectors over the internet, and let the guards keep copies for themselves, free of charge.
When the guards watched the footage that night after work, they laughed uproariously that they'd been a mere six minutes too late for Rachel.
Fin.
A story I wrote up today. Thanks to ~PavelN for urging me to write this, and letting me set it in Dasala, a fictional country he made up for these kinds of stories.
Warning: this story features rather graphic death, if that offends you, please don't read it. If I have broken any dA rules I will be happy to remove the story.
Warning: this story features rather graphic death, if that offends you, please don't read it. If I have broken any dA rules I will be happy to remove the story.
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Yeah I felt bad for Rachel too, quiet a cruel ending there, but that's the sort of story people wanted.
I exaggerate things in these stories. In reality hanging is much faster, but for dramatic purposes I like to write it much more prolonged.
The tilting floor was probably more expensive than a long-drop, but it's also more dramatic and so I went with that. I liked the idea of a long unsettling struggle that they weren't expecting.
Fiction, yes, but check out the comments on PavelN's art and you'll see snippets of details of Dasalan cruelty!
It must be so frustrating and humiliating for your last sensation to be an embarrassing, warm, wet little accident before you finally go limp...
I should think so. Would have been worse if the guards had been there, leering and laughing, as the victims wet themselves, but for this story I wanted to keep them alone and isolated, an eerie execution.
It just adds the humiliation really. Semi-naked, bound, executed in a filthy room by uncaring guards, filmed for the entertainment of an anonymous audience, and they can't even die with dignity, they cry and drool and splutter and lose control of their bodies.
I think I wrote that in because I wasn't allowed, by dA rules, to go explicit with certain details that I'd wanted to go explicit with. So instead I was left with non-sexual bodily functions. It's not even my specific fetish, but it ties in so much with the execution fetish that it worked out for this story.
And there is something a little exciting to me about someone losing control of their body utterly. Not my specific kink, but I can see the appeal.
I was trying to think of a way to execute them without a trapdoor and without the executioners being there to physically push the stools away. So then I thought of tilting the floor for both removing the stools and draining.
That said, they don't really care. You'd be up on a stool, noose around your neck, before you could blink!
Their fates were much crueler in my original concept, but I couldn't post that on dA, censorship rules and all. Originally the guards had more fun with them before the hanging.
Any part in particular, or just overall? I like critiques, they help with future stories.
I would love to write more but it's difficult to find the time, and also writing around deviantart's restrictions on "sexual content."
I've thought of writing the start of a story and offering to message people the end, or email them the "uncut" version perhaps.
I should try this summer, this story did get quite a lot of good feedback and people want more like it.
You write so well, why don't you post more stuff? This is top-notch asphyxia, I love it.
Well, I'm incredibly busy.
Also, skirting around dA's rules about "obscenity" is tricky. There's stuff I'd like to write into stories that would get me banned.
I've thought about writing some stuff, then offering to send the "director's cut" version to people if they comment. But I've been so busy, I haven't had the time for that.
Maybe this summer ...
Any particular parts you liked, or didn't like? I'm always looking for feedback.
I wish you made clothing more important. Or nakedness. Put the girls in revealing outfits, or joyless grey uniforms, or bottomless. I want to see your characters, and I want their appearance to reinforce the hotness of the scene somehow.
Or just remove any mention of clothes at all - leave that up to the reader. I think the plain cotton pants don't add anything to the story. Prison-issue clothes can be kinky in the right context, but unless you play that up, the pants are clutter. That's my feedback.
Also, yes please, write more this summer. Write something small, something self-indulgent, something easy and fun for yourself. Go for it!
Thanks very much! I enjoyed writing it; I hoped other people would find it arousing as well.
I wish you made clothing more important. Or nakedness. Put the girls in revealing outfits, or joyless grey uniforms, or bottomless. I want to see your characters, and I want their appearance to reinforce the hotness of the scene somehow.
Or just remove any mention of clothes at all - leave that up to the reader. I think the plain cotton pants don't add anything to the story. Prison-issue clothes can be kinky in the right context, but unless you play that up, the pants are clutter. That's my feedback.
Very good points. You're right. I think my thinking was, I'd have put more specifics into the outfits (or lack thereof ...) if I were able to write it more explicitly. deviantart doesn't allow explicit sexual content, sexual fluids, etc.
Then again, my idea of writing a story and only posting the dA safe stuff here and offering to send the "uncut" version to people via dA messages or email, then I could think about their outfits a bit more ...
You like the idea of them going to their nooses with shirts but no pants? Interesting ... care to elaborate on why?
Also, yes please, write more this summer. Write something small, something self-indulgent, something easy and fun for yourself. Go for it!
I'll do my best ... very busy, but I'd love to write something for people. The response I got for this was overwhelmingly enthusiastic and I'd like to give people more of what they want.
I'd have written in some more lurid details, but didn't want to risk being banned from dA. Explicit sexual content is forbidden.
Always interesting to get the well-thought out viewpoint of a female at the "wrong end" of the noose
Thank you! So often it's overly sexualized to the point of ridiculousness, or from the male perspective. I tried to give a different one, while still keeping it nice and intimate and erotic. Hope I did a good job!
It's tough to find good material for this, years of reading over types of work have made it difficult for me to enjoy stories with bad grammar, cheesy dialogue, or odd word choices. But with this fetish/kink, you have to take what you can get. So writing my own stuff and posting it was inevitable, I write the kind of stuff I'd want to read, and hope others will enjoy it as well.
Guy's perspectives don't have to always be predictable. But in a kink/fetish dominated by men, full of stuff produced by men, for male perspectives ... you're going to come across a lot of cliches, recurring themes, etc.
And, to be fair, porn is overall a male-desire driven industry. Women tend to prefer their porn as written stories, men tend to prefer images. That doesn't mean that's ALL they consume, but in scientific studies that's what's been revealed. Which is interesting.