FROM NET 10
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Severianus Latro Keren Is Beheaded
And here's her other request. Sorry it took so long, "Keren", I hope you enjoy it.

(Anyone else with a request, post or PM me.)

Keren made an impressive sight as she sat in the cart taking her to her death. She wore a blood-red dress, low-cut and showing much of her fine breasts. Her dark hair was cropped short. Her body was slender and wand-like, and some sorrowed to see her die.

As the cart approached the scaffold, the crowd pressed in on it. She ignored their imprecations. Then it pulled up by the scaffold, and a guard came to the cart’s tail. “Time to disembark the coach!” he said.

Keren stood up, lifted her skirt with one hand, and took the guard’s hand in her other. She walked daintily to the foot of the steps, then mounted the scaffold alone. They could see her now and the cries broke out.

The judge’s man stared into her face, not down between her breasts. He said, “You have been found guilty of murder and sentenced to have your head stricken off from your neck. May God have mercy upon your soul!”

Then he turned to face the executioner, who stood there, masked face unmoved, powerful arms folded across his jerkin, the axe lying at his feet. “Do you accept the body of a condemned felon?”

The executioner said, “I accept the body of a condemned felon.”

Keren said, “May I speak my last words?”

“As you will,” the judge’s man said.

She turned to face the crowd. “You have come here to see me die. I have come here to die, for the crime I have committed. It is said that being executed quickly is the biggest climax a woman can ever have. May my death be satisfactory to your sense of justice.”

Then she turned and looked at the executioner. “May I have a small boon before you end my life?”

“What?” he said.

“A kiss.”

He suffered her to approach him, and to kiss his closed mouth below the half-mask. That done, he said, “You must kneel, your neck across the block.”

“But my dress . . .”

A moment later the crowd gasped as the executioner gave a slight tug, and the dress top fell to her waist. Her bare breasts were quivering with her last excited breaths. Mothers covered their children’s eyes, young men leered.

Half-naked, Keren walked to the block. There were marks chalked on the scaffold floor, and she knelt there, then laid her neck across the block, holding it with her hands.

“Press them titties, and your neck, into the block there,” the executioner said. Keren did so, then at his direction folded her hands in her lap.

“Close your eyes and it’ll all be over in a moment.” Her long lashes swept shut, blocking the sight of the basket that would receive her head.

Naked to the waist, kneeling, neck exposed, Keren waited to die. The executioner loomed above her body. He had the axe in his hands now; he almost touched it to her bare neck, then raised it high.

With one powerful motion he brought the axe down. Her head fell into the basket. The body flicked upright, blood jetting from the severed neck and splattering on the bare breasts, before it collapsed.

Two guards placed a coffin on the scaffold, and the executioner picked up the headless body and laid it in the coffin, arms folded over the naked breasts. That done, he went to the basket, took the head, and placed it between the corpse’s legs. The assistants began to nail the coffin shut.

That evening, a burial would happen in the unconsecrated part of the cemetery. Keren would go into the grave entirely, if not whole.


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