Judie awoke on a beautiful day in May, 1995 in San Quentin prison. She knew a week from then, just before 10 AM, they would come take her to the apple green chamber, strap her in one of the chairs, and asphyxiate her with cyanide gas. This was her sentence for killing 19 people in a protest bombing. Judie had not intended to kill anyone as the bomb detonated early, but knew she could only atone for this by becoming the fifth California woman to die in that state’s gas chamber.
Judie had been told this would be anything but pleasant. There would be drooling, foaming at the mouth, convulsions, and perhaps vomiting. She would be wearing a diaper, as both her bowels and bladder could empty as she struggled breathing in cyanide, and this was more common for women than men. But as she reached back and fastened her prison-issued bra, she thought things would be even worse if she was forced to go braless for her gassing.

California’s protocols required vital signs monitoring for all executions so they not be needlessly prolonged. In the previous era, that meant a stethoscope mounted on a harness strapped around the chest. But now ECG sensors would be taped on, and Judie suspected that meant a condemned woman had to be bra-free for maximum flexibility in their application of the sensors.

She had just been transferred from a women’s prison, and no one had said anything. This troubled Judie, as she had long considered wearing a bra to be both a physical and psychological comfort necessity. She got her first bra at 11, when stairs and running started being painful for her without support. It was also required for all women in California prisons (inmates, guards, staff, and visitors) to wear a bra, so it certainly seemed reasonable to ask about this. She thought about the four women who went to the gas chamber previously, and the notion of a young, beautiful, stylish woman like Barbara Graham suffering through this without the comfort and support of a bra seemed almost too cruel for words. Just the thought of her unrestrained and unprotected breasts shaking with each convulsion while people stared was truly awful for her to contemplate.

Judie approached her matron Caitlin about the issue. Caitlin empathized as she appreciated good support as well. Judie mentioned to her that she had never liked the bras the prison gave out. They were completely plain, without the underwire support and shaping she so much loved on the outside. Judie confessed to Caitlin her jealousy that she and the guards got to wear underwire but the inmates did not. Caitlin said she felt bad about that, and promised to talk to the warden to about it. Judie suggested bringing in a bra-fitter to let her try some underwire styles to provide the kind of support she was going to need.

A week before her execution, Caitlin approached. “The warden has agreed to have a bra-fitter come in to see if there is one that works with the sensors. He will even grant you access to the gas chamber to try them on and test the equipment. Judie was delighted.

Karen was a bra-fitter of many years who owned a lingerie shop that specialized in quality bras at modest prices. She still considered herself a bit of a radical feminist, but had come to the conclusion many years ago that going braless was silly for the vast majority of women. Previously, Karen had approached the prison system about a pilot program to come in and fit well-behaved inmates (even on death row) for bras that would let them look and feel their best. The girls would learn about correct fit and how to properly wear a bra. Hopefully they would eventually have underwire as an option, since she viewed its prohibition as a security threat to be a bit silly. She was very much against the death penalty, and wanted to help Judie find comfort during her final days.

Karen and Judie walked to the chamber for the fitting. They were escorted by Jill and Helen, two female guards that Judie had requested be the ones to escort her on the coming day. Judie had told the warden that she did not want male guards applying the sensors to her chest, especially if she could not wear a bra to protect her dignity!
The gas chamber’s cold green metal interior was no one’s idea of the best place for a bra fitting, but it was necessary for the circumstances. Wearing her prison bra and jeans, Judie stopped by the chair she would be strapped into in a few days. She took off her bra and gave it to Karen, then seating herself as Helen and Jill applied the electrodes to her bare chest. With that baseline readings could be taken to see if wearing a bra compromised other readings of vital signs.

Karen took out a beautiful white lace underwire bra. It was 34D, and as Judie put her arms through the straps and fastened it in back, it felt perfect. Karen was pleased that Judie was a girl who knew how to put on a bra properly, as she had been in too many fittings were the client used the “crush and flip” method that killed bras before their time. She then handed Judie another bra to try on, a padded one of the kind she preferred to wear on her “period days” when it was more comfortable for tender breasts. Judie was still a 34D, and didn’t need them for enhancement! Both bras were checked to see if they allowed for sensor placement that was good enough, with the decision to come later.
It had been decided that Judie would be allowed to wear bras Karen had left her during the time remaining. In addition to the ones already selected, she got an underwire sports bra, and two wire-free bras for sleeping. Judie loved underwire, but also knew it was not suitable to sleep in.

Judie retired the eve of her execution evening after switching to a pink lace wireless bra that she found wondrously comfortable. She slept surprisingly well, considering it was her last night on earth. When she awoke, she had a decision to make: which bra should I wear until they come for me? They haven’t given me a decision yet, but I’ll wear a bra as long as I can anyway. Judie settled on the truly pretty white lace underwire bra, which she also decided was the one she wanted to be buried in. She told Caitlin of her desire, and she agreed to hold on to it, and to make sure the morgue got it.
At 9:50, the warden came to the cell to prepare Judie for the gas chamber. She wore a fresh pair of jeans, a white blouse, and her diaper. The warden couldn’t help but think how radiant she looked with her long auburn hair, blue eyes, and the blouse that was translucent enough to reveal such a pretty bra underneath. “I’m sorry Judie, but the signal isn’t strong enough when you’re wearing a bra. Please take it off and we can proceed.” She was in shock. As he looked away, she slid the straps off and lazily pulled the bra down to her waist, and then began sobbing. Helen immediately rushed to her side to comfort her and unhook the bra.

Judie composed herself and put on the blouse to tell the others she was ready. She proceeded with them barefoot, though she had been given the option of stockings. Judie had been braless for only a minute, but already she was uncomfortable with the jiggle from each step and the chafing of her nipples against her blouse. The warden whispered in her ear that he had requested the state contract with researchers to develop a bra with built-in sensors so future condemned women would not have endure this. Judie expressed appreciation as she was was tempted to hold her breasts in place with her hands. But that would look undignified and Judie wanted very much to maintain her dignity. Fortunately, her journey was short.
The chamber’s door was already wide open when Judie stepped inside, and looked at the assembled witnesses and journalists. She noticed several women among them, all of whom appeared to be wearing comfortable bras that shaped them to be confident professional women. “Lucky them” she thought, as she sat down in the A chair while noticing the cheesecloth sack of cyanide pellets that hung directly underneath her chair.

As Jill and Helen began constraining her with the 10 thick straps provided, Judie couldn’t help but think that San Quentin’s method of mixing cyanide and sulfuric acid was more complicated than it had to be. She knew that after she was strapped in and monitored, the vat below would be filled with acid and then the pellets dropped by a lever mechanism. Judie had heard other states put the pellets in the vat and let the acid flow, or in the case of Nevada, used a tube to deliver the pellets to a filled vat inside.

When the guards were done constraining Judie’s limbs and torso with two straps each, Helen began to delicately unbutton her blouse, and opened it up to allow the ECG pads to be applied. There were six of them, and they had to be carefully placed to ensure proper monitoring. This was all time-consuming, and Judie could not help but think of Ruth Ellis, a woman executed in 1955, her birth year. She was the last woman to be hanged in the UK. Judie felt a kinship with Ruth, and had great admiration for the long-drop hanging protocol of that country, which was designed to be quick and painless. Ruth had been allowed a drink to calm her nerves, and the noose placed around her neck had an iron ring instead of knot turns to instantly and cleanly break her neck as the rope suddenly became taught. The trap door was quickly sprung. She dropped more than eight feet, a distance which had been carefully calculated from her weight and medical condition. This had all taken less than 10 seconds after she entered the execution room.

Ruth’s neck was elongated, but there were no other disfigurements to her body. She had to wear canvas trousers as some women had bled through their vulva as internal organs collided with the snapping of the neck, but above that was largely her choice. There were wonderful photos of Ruth enjoying her bras, and one could easily imagine Queen Elizabeth mandating all women in Her Majesty’s prisons to be wearing proper support!

Helen and Jill worked in tandem to put the pads on Judie’s bare chest. Their task was made easier by her firm breasts. If they had been pendulous, it would have required awkward lifting of the left breast for proper placement of the pads underneath. Judie then joked that bras had been so beneficial in this life that she was going to book a fitting on the other side as soon as she could. Jill then turned serious. “Judie, you know the drill. When you hear the vat below fill up, the pellets will drop a few seconds later. Count to 10, and then start breathing deeply. It will hurt less that way.”
Judie nodded her acknowledgment, and the two left to shut the chamber door and seal it. About 15 seconds later, Judie heard the vat filling beneath. She listened carefully for it to stop, and then heard the levers move. Judie sensed the instant the pouch came in contact with the acid, and began the count. Sure enough, the grey mist had reached her face and she began to breathe deeply.

The first breath made her feel somewhat high, but things quickly got worse. Judie knew that cyanide gas killed in three ways. First, it would get in the bloodstream and block the brain’s ability to take in oxygen. Then the lungs would be inflamed so much she would start drowning in her own mucus. Finally, her heart would become paralyzed by the toxicity of cyanide. She had heard that the women who had gone before her had taken 8-11 minutes to die, and had been conscious up to three minutes after the pellets dropped. Judie had wanted her breaths to be strong and steady, but this was difficult, as each breath triggered painful coughing. Her eyes rolled and her body convulsed heavily. The pain of her breast movements quickly returned as they were flying in all directions with her convulsions. Judie then looked down to see the drool running from her lips to her glistening chest with its alabaster skin and large pink areolas. Her mouth started foaming about 30 seconds in, as she continued determined breathing to get it over with ASAP.

At around a minute her eyes closed and head slumped, though her body continued to twitch. Her head rose as she briefly returned to consciousness and she could feel her bowels and bladder emptying into her diaper. She moaned softly before permanently shutting her eyes 30 seconds later. Her body twitched a few more times. Eight minutes after the cyanide dropped, she was pronounced dead. She had probably suffered less than the others asphyxiated in this chamber. Judie left her body and began to float away. She looked down at her blue-tinged body still strapped in with sensors having nothing to monitor. Judie had paid her karmic debt, and then looked beyond the chamber to a bright light beckoning her to the next world.


PS: Hope you were as turned on reading this as I was writing it. I'm curious how the women in this forum feel about this. Do you think wearing a bra would be important for your execution in the modern era, or a corset for earlier times? Feel free to post here or PM me. Thank you!

 

Good writing! I wonder why they don't offer the gas chamber as an option for folks on death row. Sounds more humane than being strapped to a cot and injected. How does cyanide gas compare with carbon monoxide which would be easy to produce? Or carbon dioxide (made from melting dry ice)?

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