This is the first part of the first installment of my first real series. I'm very pleased to share it with you. I had originally intended the whole chapter to be one post, but I've decided that I'd like to have the first part out now, and I'll finish the chapter a little bit later when I'm not so busy. A few notes:
I'm still figuring out the details of the setting. I'll likely come back and edit small details as I decide on things. I'm also probably going to edit small details because I'm an oaf who has a tendency to not notice obvious mistkaes until I've posted a story.
This starting entry is somewhat beheading-focused. Across the series I'll be aiming for a mix of hangings, beheadings, and maybe a few other methods that tickle my fancy.
At first I couldn't decide what gender for Sam to be, so I used gender-neutral pronouns for them. I eventually decided it would make most sense for them to be a guy, but I had already been using "they" and "them" for long enough that it would be a PITA to edit it out. So I guess everyone just refers to them with gender-neutral pronouns. It really doesn't matter much except for the specific details of their arousal.
I'm pretty new to this so any constructive feedback is welcome.


***



Time: 7:47 AM.



35 years after the Great Shift



The "taxi" arrived at the street corner a good two minutes behind schedule. It couldn't be helped- an accident had cut off the fastest road and created a jam, the vehicle's lack of government markings meant it had no right-of-way permissions, and the driver hadn't been given permission to head out until 7:10, making the goal of getting to the remote pickup spot by 7:45 impractical. It was all understandable.



None of this left the driver feeling any less terrified as they pulled up.



The sun was just starting to rise, and nobody could be seen. Sam wondered if they had arrived at the wrong address. If it was, it would be bad-



Clunk. Clunk.



The sound of someone knocking on the car window made Sam flinch. Upon seeing the figure standing outside- wearing a hood and ski mask that resembled an old-style slasher villain- they shrieked briefly before pulling themselves together and rolling down their window.

"Good morning", the woman said. The softness in their voice threw Sam for a loop. "When the rain is coming, what are the last warning signs?"



"The singing of frogs, the warm gusts of wind, and the darkness of night coming early." The codephrase was a formality- the woman had presumably been monitoring the cab's location with a tracker- but it was still required.

"Excellent. Now that we've got the formalities out of the way, would you unlock the door?"

Sam clicked the button on his side, and the door came unlocked. As she walked around the front of the car to get to the door, they got a good look at their passenger. She was wearing a light gray longcoat, with a hood and skii mask that completely covered her face. She had black trousers and gray boots, as well as a vest that looked like light body armor. Most interestingly, there was a long tail poking out from the bottom of her coat that clearly indicated she was one of the "new-types" that had become common since the Great Shift.

Apparently she's the only new-type executioner out there... kinda surprising, when you think about it.



A chill went down Sam's spine when they saw the sword sheathed at her waist. While most executioners used the same straight broadswords, this individual preferred a curving design that resembled a kilij but had a long two-handed grip to maximize striking power. The foreign appearance of this weapon and it's seemingly perfect reliability had made it a token of her handiwork.



The lady took off the sword, and once she sat down and put on her seatbelt she laid it down at her feet. Sam kicked down on the gas petal, bringing the car forward.



"Uh... driver?"



"What?" Sam remarked, before they realized it was a highly inappropriate way to respond. "I'm sorry, your Honor, I've been making a fool out of myself. I'll be sure to..."



"Don't worry about it. I just wanted to remind you that you're not legally allowed to share any details of my appearance to the public. I don't care personally, and already knows what I look like, but I really don't want you to have to end up like the last driver if you get caught. Understood?"



"Y...Yes, your Honor."



"Alright." The woman rolled off her hood, took down her bandanna, and raised up her goggles. She had a pair of wolf ears atop her head- something that might've been a bizarre sight decades ago, but was the expected for a new-type. The most unusual thing was her hair, the same bright orange-red color as her tail. She had a few small scars on her face- Lord knows how she got those- but they didn't bother Sam. She looked rather attractive- at this point, most people would taking in the fact that the infamous executioner looked so normal, and wondering if she wasn't really as wicked as she was cracked up to be.



Sam wasn't "most people". But they were pleased that- at least on the surface- there wasn't anything abnormal about this person yet.



"My name is M. Feel free to call me that when we're together. If you need to be formal, please use my title of 'Executrix'. I don't like the feel of 'your Honor,' quite frankly."



So she really does go by the name M all the time.



Sam took a deep breath. "My name is Sam Calberg. I don't think there was a formal title for my job, but you can just call me 'bodyguard'".


***


M was a bit curious about her new driver. They were trying to hide it, but they seemed scared as hell right now.



"Hey... I'm not mad at you for showing up late, that happens all the time. And I'm not going to hurt you, y'know." Sam nodded vaguely but didn't speak. She decided not to force the issue. It wasn't like there was any real point.



Of course it didn't matter that Sam was two minutes late. There would've been effectively no way to trace her, and the execution wasn't until 10:30. Even with preparations there was absolutely no way they'd run out of time. Even with the preparations for this execution being patently ridiculous.



Two weeks ago, a group of five young women had been convicted of conducting a pyramid scheme, which had recently been made a capital crime. Normally, the high social standing of three of the five women would've entitled them to a semi-private beheading, with the process not being publicly open but videotaped for public viewing. However, the mayor was determined to make this into a warning, and additionally to show off his "artistic vision". Therefore, he had used his authority to arrange a major change to the execution. By his command, all five women were to be decapitated together in pubic, while forced to wear embarrassing strap dresses that left them almost completely naked.



It was a little bit over the top, like most of the ideas the mayor had. But he paid well, and if someone was to do the dirty job, it may as well be her. Still, she hardly saw the reason for beheading the girls. It was a form of execution that denoted social status by default, and if you wanted something worse, hanging was almost always the go-to method. And knowing him, he might have more planned that I'll have to work out at the last minute.

"...so, how was your morning?" Sam mumbled, breaking her chain of thought.



"Eh, it's barely been a morning. I got up just about thirty minutes ago, and just did the normal routine- gulp down my meds, wash myself, throw on my outfit... to be honest, I was barely ready for five minutes before you got there."



"Have you... eaten anything?"



"Not yet. I'll be fine, though." She reached into her backpack and pulled out a pair of snack bars.

"Do you get sick during these things? I get keeping a light stomach if that's an issue, but if not..."



"Trust me, this isn't normal. The request that I show up early has messed with my schedule." She took a bite out of one of the bars, savoring the strawberry-banana flavor. "Usually I'll have a decent breakfast before I get to work."



"I see. Sorry for prying."



M chuckled. "It's all good. I'm always fine to talk about these things. It's not like you've been racing to creepy questions like half the people I meet do."



Silence.



Did I say something bad?



M took another good look at Sam. They were only a little bit taller than her, with short-ish dark purple hair- hard to tell if it was 'natural' or dyed- and blue eyes. They were wearing a slightly modified Corrections agency suit, typical for a worker of their kind. Sam was also a new-type like her, as indicated by a pair of short ears similar to those of a fox.



With a sigh, she returned to munching on her snack bars. Whatever the deal with Sam was, they were at least trying to make things pleasant for the both of them, which was all she wanted.


***


Due to the huge crowds that public executions post-Great Shift had attracted, the usual tradition of conducting them in a yard outside a prison was impractical. Cordinia had chosen to use an outdoor concert theater- a wise decision, seeing as the theater was used infrequently enough that there was always time for an execution. Most of the time.



As M's taxi pulled into the parking deck of the large preparation and holding building constructed to the rear of the hall, she could see there were already people filling up the spectator parking.



Sam and M dismounted, the latter having already re-secured her outfit. Outside the car, a man wearing a sheriff's cap was waiting. He walked forward to greet them.

"Welcome back, M." The two shook hands. His gaze drifted to Sam.



"As for you... why the hell are you late?! You're nearly ten minutes behind schedule! The fuck is wrong with you?!"



"I... I..."



"They're late because they were given an unreasonable expectation." M interjected. "There's no need to be frustrated at them, I can confirm that they did the job to the best of their abilities."



The warden stopped silent for a second, and then shrugged. "Well, if she says it's fine... alright. I'll let you keep working. We can figure this out later."



M strode through the building, Sam nervously tagging along. They kept going until they came across a pair of ominous-looking red doors.



M turned to Sam. "So, this is the part where your active attention is needed. You need to have that recorder pinned on your chest on, and take photos with that decent camera you have of anything you find of note. Do not talk to anyone, including me. You are purely a passive observer here. Got it?"



Sam nodded. "I memorized my directions before, but... thank you for the reminder." They brought their camera up.



"Perfect. Let's get going"



The two strode through the door. The prisoners weren't in there- instead there was a small lobby, with ten masked staff members. However, there was another door, with windows clearly showing a row of cells. The sobbing noises were significantly louder now. Quite surprisingly, the governor had arrived as well, as well as a few bodyguards.



"Why hello, M!" The mayor seemed to pretty much ignore Sam's presence, which they very much liked.



"Good morning, Mayor Albright."



"I just wanted to apologize for the scheduling issue. We had a concert scheduled for the next day- meaning that the preparations on the stage would need to start early- and the next few days are going to be rainy as hell, so we figured that doing this in the morning would be the best option."



"It's not a big issue."



"Glad to hear that. I've prepared a speech for this occasion- trust me, it'll make the irregularities all worth it."



"Whatever you say. Its not like I've had a problem with unusual settings before. Now, if there's nothing left to discuss, I'd like to get started preparing the prisoners. We only have a little bit of time left."



"Goodness, are we that close? Damn- only forty minutes left! Looks like you came right in time. Well, I'll be out... would'nt want to disrupt things..."



The portly official waddled out with his entourage following behind. After he had left, M let out a sigh, and turned to face her squad.



"Alright, you heard it. We have a tight schedule here, it's time to get this party started! Gather up all the prisoners immediately and take them to the final processing center."



The masked men sat up, and shambled to the doors. Sam noticed their movements seemed a teeny bit "off"- just a little bit mechanical, enough to be unnerving. They shuddered, but kept their camera held high, taking pictures as they went along.



A commotion seemed to explode from the cells as the masked men opened the hallway door. Unnerved, the ten guards split into five pairs, each pair opening and entering a cell. In less than a minute the first pair emerged. In between them was a short, sobbing brunette, her hands bound between her back. The rest were quick to follow. Once the entire group was out, M made a hand signal and led her procession out.



The couple of workers that passed the procession in the building simply looked away and pretended to ignore what was happening. One of the women began dragging her feet and breaking down. In response, the guard on her right arm let go, walked behind her, and struck her on the ass with his cattle prod, provoking a scream.



"Stay with the group or you will be struck more!" The girl quickly picked up her pace, not wanting to test the man's patience.



The group arrived at a door marked FINAL PROCESSING, watched over by two soldiers. Seeing who was coming, they stepped aside and allowed the miserable parade through.



Inside, there was a long row of stalls, almost like what you'd see at a public restroom. Inside of each one there was an array of shackles and two stockades, as well as a storage locker. The guards lined up the women on one side of the wall and M walked in front to face them.



"In case it hasn't sunken in yet, you all don't have much time yet. In about thirty-six minutes, all five of you will be taken out to the execution deck, where each and every one you shall be decapitated as punishment for your crimes. Do not delude yourself with the idea of a last-minute pardon or some miraculous event. Your end is about to happen, and any failure to accept it is simply wasting what little time you have left." Two women were crying, one was passed out, and the other two seemed completely silent. "We have one last set of preparations to perform. You will be made properly presentable for your execution today. This entails having your vagina and anus plugged with cotton balls to prevent any undue embarrassment, and being put in a set of outfits that properly display your body for the crowd."



A woman in the back spoke up. "We have to have to have cotton balls shoved up our butts... to avoid being embarrassed?"



"Of course. Or would you wish to risk pissing yourself on the scaffold, in full view of thousands? Don't say it wouldn't happen- the first few years after the Great Shift were an amusing time."

"Well... I-"



M cut her off. "Take the talkative Miss Jill here to her stall alone. The rest will be dressed in pairs as normal." The guards unceremoniously sprung to work, dragging their prisoners into stalls and shutting the doors. A chorus of shrieks and cries emerged as the unflinching hands of the masked men began stripping the victims nude.



M walked into a corner of the room and made a gesture to Sam, who promptly followed over. "Turn off your camera now" she directed, and they complied. She took off her mask and rolled down her hood. She slid out a mobile phone and started clicking away. "What's the deal?" Sam asked.



M chuckled. "Just bringing up the feed. There's no cameras overlooking this corner... but this room sure isn't without them" She showed Sam the screen.



On it, Sam could see a live feed from a video camera watching each of the stalls. Inside he could see the women-all either nude or mostly nude- having their clothes stripped bare, being locked into stockades as the masked men prepared to stuff them with cotton, or being whipped.

A wave of several feelings- some of them more embarrassing than others- washed over Sam, and they slowly stepped back.



"Uhhh... wow. That's something."

"You sure you don't want to see more of it."



"I-I... don't think it would be a good idea to get horny right before the big show..."



"You can cool down by getting oral from one of the prisoners and then wash your face in a sink."



Sam was taken aback. "What!?"



"Oh, you weren't told? An executioner's assistant can demand sex from up to two prisoners in the final processing area. Though you can only use two from the same stall, and time is limited so you'll probably not actually be able to 'finish' with two people, and you have to put your mask on, and you have to do it in a way that doesn't leave a visible trace, but... you wanna do it?"



Sam took a few seconds to process what was happening. They were being offered the opportunity to rape one of the condemned? Who would think to commit such as huge abuse of power?!



Though... these were people who had been sentenced to death for their crimes. Arguably this was just due punishment under the law. They were about to be beheaded, so it wouldn't even be the worst thing that had happened to them. And the two girls in the center-left stall both looked quite attractive. Having never had sex with a woman before, Sam couldn't help but find the prospect of a quick in-and-out with then enticing. Just a few minutes of-



What the hell am I thinking?



"-No. I don't want it."



M shrugged. "Suit yourself." She started putting away the phone.



"I didn't say I didn't want to watch, just that I don't want to rape a prisoner."



"Fair enough. Lets sit down." The two of them went to the bench. Sam was too focused on the phone to catch M's wry grin. "Anyways, if you like watching this, then I have a feeling you'll like being up on stage to watch what happens next. You wont need to be taking pictures since the whole place is full of cameras."



Sam didn't respond, but they didn't frown back either.



Oh, Sam. M thought to herself. You aren't like the others, are you?


***

It took less than ten minutes for the 'preparation' to finish. M let them wait in their stalls for a while before calling the guards out. Once again the prisoners were lined up on one side of the room. This time, they were clad in strap suits that covered their nipples, crotches, and not much else. All five girls looked like they were about to die of embarrassment. "I understand that your outfits for today are... abnormal. But I'm afraid that's the way things have to be. Now- it's time."



"Time for what?" said the youngest girl. "Is there a plan to get us out you've been keeping secret?"



"Nope. It's time for me to take you out there and chop off your head."

The girl lowered her head to the group, looking like she was about to start crying once again. M sighed. "I've wasted enough time already. All of you- get moving already!"



The entire group walked down through a set of doors at the other end of the hall. Sam pulled up the hood on their jacket- staying discreet was important even for an executioner's companion. As they walked through the tunnel, they could hear some faint noises from the other end..



They climbed a set of stairs before striding out the exit doors. They were now in a wood room of some sort, and the sound of music and a crowd mumbling was apparent. M gave a silent signal, and the guards arranged the women into a line in front of a door marked "Stage." Once they were done, M turned to face the women for a final time.



"Well, it appears this is where things wrap up. Once we're on stage, I'm not permitted to speak with you any further. So before we go, I'd like to congratulate you all on making it this far without any major breakdowns. Sure, we had a little bit of nonsense, but you've all done a lot better than I expected. We got right out there on time."



One of the masked men gave a signal, and a few seconds later a familiar voice was hear through a loudspeaker:



"Alright, Cordinia, it's about time for the event you've been waiting for: the execution of the RotorCoin Five! As charlatans of a particularly high level, I believed that this event deserved an especially large celebration..."



"The mayor never seems to lose his dramatic flair", M sighed. "Anyways, now that we're here, I have a feeling that some of you may change your behavior. But if you think that'll spoil the event... don't worry. The executees that crumble are just as important to watch as the ones who stand firm. Which will it be for you? Truth be told, I kinda prefer the former- it just makes things much more dramatic. But the choice is yours. And now..." She held the pause for almost ten seconds before the mayor stopped talking. "...it's time to head out."



With that, M flung the door open, the noise of the outside crowd wafting in, and then marched out. Her guards followed after her in an orderly line. Sam took their last few images before holstering their camera and walking out behind them.


***


Sam was thankful for the bagginess of the suit- if it wasn't for that, the stiffness developing in their pants would be visible to a cheering crowd of what looked like thousands of people.



This "reaction" wasn't a new thing for them, it had existed since puberty. Sam had never talked to anyone about it- it felt so embarrassing, and so weird. Even more, they had been terrified of this arousal growing into an urge to do something, and had tried to avoid 'feeding' it as much as possible. But they had been forced to take this job, and now they were about to get the second-closest experience they had ever had. With their job "over", they walked out to the side of the stage, pretending to take pictures.



The sort of dubstep music you'd expect for a sports game was blaring, and the mayor was still going, explaining his reasoning for choosing the particular outfits for this punishment. Sam didn't particularly notice any of this. What caught their focus was the two structures in the center of the stage. One was a medium-sized mat, the likes which could be found in any house. Parallel with it was a large bench table with a lunette just the right size for a neck. At the edge of the platform, there were five metal stakes



Out in the distance, great thunderclouds were rolling in. They would'nt get here for a while, but they were there.



M walked out to the side of the constructs. Once the mayor was finished with his speech, he gave the order. "And now, let the executions commence!"



M turned to the crowd. She put her hand at her hip, grabbed the sword handle, and in one sweeping motion unsheathed her weapon. She held it horizontally above her head, as if- no, definitely- to display all the details: the long handle, the gentle but noticeable curve, and the distinctive flared yalman. All things that gave the weapon a ferocious cutting power. She brought down the sword and held it in front of her with both hands. The crowd cheered, thrilled at the prospect of this exotic weapon soon being applied to use.



Sam was thrilled, too. They knew that they shouldn't be. But seeing the events unfolding feet away, the shame they covered themselves with was getting washed away.



Why not... enjoy this for once?



M lowered the sword, holding it in one hand at her waist. She turned to the prisoners. "Now, you have a choice. You can each decide who shall be the first to go. Otherwise, I will pick myself, according to the regular plans."



The five prisoners were dead silent. But when M opened her mouth to announce her own pick, one spoke.



"I... Susie Bradford... wish to be first to go."



M was taken aback, in part by the fact that one had spoken, in part by the fact that this was the youngest girl- one who she had predicted would be dragged out a screaming mess, and also in part by the fact that this girl was the one she had planned to pick already. But she kept her mask on.



"Susie Bradford, condemned for fraud, your time has come. Walk forward to the mat."



Susie's bright blue eyes darted around nervously as she looked forward. She was the only new-type of the group, as was made by the two rabbit ears atop her head- which both were standing straight up and swiveling around, as if she was still looking desperately for some way out of her fate- and the cottontail poking out from her behind. Her hair and the fur of her ears were golden blonde. She had a pair of glasses, which were clearly upside down and bothering her. She was quite shapely for a woman just three weeks shy of her nineteenth birthday, something that the strap dress did a good job of showing off.



She took one step forward, than another, quivering like a leaf. She was moving slow but she was still moving. The two guards stood by her side but neglected to grab her directly. Tears were dripping down her cute face as she finally made her way to the mat. When she finally got there, she turned her head to her executioner. "Executrix... may I have one last request?"



The crowd chattered, wondering what it would be. "Speak."



"May you please... correct my glasses? They were put on upside down and I cant change them."



A wave of laughter washed over the crowd, but M paid them no mind. She took the glasses off, flipped them, and put them back on. Susie nodded, indicating she was fine. She stepped onto the mat, and started to bend her knees to kneel, but her trembling was so strong it seemed as if she was frozen.



"Mrs. Bradford, you seem stressed. You've been excellent so far... would you like a hug before you kneel down?"



Susie seemed surprised, but she nodded once more. M put the sword back in it's sheath and wrapped her arms around the girl. Susie made no attempt to resist, letting her head rest on M's shoulder as she sobbed. M gently rubbed and patted her back. The doomed new-types ears bent slightly, her terror retreating.



Mumbling washed out in the crowd, viewers seemingly split in their opinion. Some seemed pleased at her compassion, others felt it was uncouth, and more than a few felt that easing the suffering of a condemmed was atrocious- this was supposed to be slow, undignified, and painful. M grinned at the latter group's derision. She knew that the same people would practically be jizzing themselves in a minute.



After a short interval, she relaxed her embrace slowly enough for Susie to shift her weight back onto her feet. "Thank you.." she mumbled faintly, as M moved behind her and place one hand on her arm and another on her shoulder. Understanding, Susie began bending her legs again, and M gently guided her to her knees. Susie bent her head forward slightly, presenting the perfect angle for the sword. M was pleased- it wasn't often that a victim was so nice.



Sam was struck with sadness, but at the same time felt the most aroused they had ever been in their life. Their member felt hard as concrete, and despite their better knowledge they slipped their hand into their pocket and gave it a quick fondle.



M unsheathed the sword once again, not bothering to make a demonstration this time. Held in two hands, she made two 'practice' swings at the condemmed like a golfer readying to strike a ball. Then she made a third swing, slowing down at the end and gently bringing the blade to rest on the condemmed's nape.



"Any last words?" she asked. Thunder crackled in the distance.



"Once again.. thank you" Susie said in between choked sobs as M raised the blade up inti the air, slowly and deliberately.



And then she swung. Sam felt as if events were happening in slow motion.



M preferred hangings to decapitations- they just felt like they went by so fast, and simply couldn't compare to the experience of a long dangle-and-strangle. But having rended so many heads, she had came to appreciate the special intimacy that a beheading offered. One of the best parts was the speed control- while a single-stroke beheading was over in seconds, M had found that with practice she could control just how much time her victim had to 'enjoy' the sword ripping into their flesh. She could give a particularly irritating prisoner nearly over a second of agony if she so chose. Their suffering was short, but the expressions burnt onto their faces were quite amusing. With Susie's beautiful demeanor and vulnerable nature, the temptation to do so was immense.



Yet she didn't. Proper courtesy deserved to be rewarded after all.



The kilij hit home with all the force the headswoman could muster. Susie had maybe a millisecond to register the impact before it sliced her neck all the way though, sheer force sending her head sailing into the air. Her body convulsed and toppled over, blood spurting out. Susie's head landed a couple feet over, rolling once before coming still.



The crowd went wild. Sam felt waves of lust washing over themself. God, what's happening to me?



M casually walked over to where Susie's head had fallen. Her eyes were closed shut, and looked as if she had been trying to force herself to smile when the blade struck. With a sigh, M straightened out her glasses for a final time. She grabbed both ears and raised the head into the air for all the audience to see, to a wild applause. Once the crowd had got a nice look, she strode to the far left side of the stage, and mounted the head on a metal spike.

M strode back to the center and looked at the remaining four prisoners. "If only all of my patients had such bravery and grace. Anyways... who's next?"

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