I don't remember if had published any of my stories here, I guess not, though they had been in other websites. This one was the my first written directly in English and it depicts one of my dark fantasies
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SAD LOVE STORY
by Pavel

Before I tell you my story, let me apologise for my poor English. I studied it

for a few years, when I still was in medical school, but of course almost all my

vocabulary was related to my profession. I will try to do it the best I can,

since I strongly desire to let it some simpathetic people like you read it. Yes,

I know that sometimes I am repetitive in my personal drama, but not everybody

has to see his sweet love being practically taken away from your arms straight

to the gallows, and hanged in a sordid prison, knowing that nothing can be done

to avoid it. But let's start from the beginning, so you can fully understand

the depth of my grief.


When I finally got my medical degree after six years of intense study, I found

myself unemployed and without much to do. You probably heard about how difficult

is for young professionals to find a stable job in my country; it's like this in

many other Far East countries.

I hung around for a while, just waiting for a break and looking at my future

without much enthusiasm.

Then, one hot afternoon I received a phone call from Bari, an old friend from

the times of the University who got his degree a year before I did.

We spent a few minutes chatting, reminiscing about old times as students, then

he got to the point.

"I called up to ask you a favor, actually. is extremely important for me and my

family that you accept it, so please don't say no," he said. Then he explained

me his problem in detail.

After graduation, he found a job as medical doctor in the infamous Ragi prison.

The job itself was all right, though a little lonely. The prison, as you

probably know, is in an isolated area, far from the capital.

Everything went smoothly, but recently he decided to marry Dina, a sweet girl he

had known since their childhood. She accepted with one condition: that he leave

his job; she didn't want to live that far from her parents.

But my friend had a problem: he had signed contract with the governement for a

three years and there were still six months to go. The prison Warden had agreed

to let him go if he provided an equally qualified substitute. So Bari had

immediately thought of me, since he trusted my capabilities and because he knew

that I hadn't any conflicting duties.

After a brief moment of doubt, I accepted. Although I didn't see myself working

in a prison, I was intrigued by Ragi, a mysterious place that most And, I admit

it, I had a morbid curiousity to see if it was true that the inmates were forced

to hard labor in chains. So it was settled. A few days later I caught the bus

to Ragi, where I arrived after more than eight exhausting hours of travel by

very bad dirt roads.

A van sent from the prison picked me up from the entrance gate in the middle of

nowhere to take me to the main compound. And then I finally began to see how

things really were in Ragi. Along the road to the huge main stone building of

the prison, I could see several groups of convicts working in a sort of female

chain gangs, but in far worst conditions than their infamous American

counterparts. (I have heard that some southern US states have brought them back

to keep prisoners, male and female, working in chains).

These women were dressed in plain striped prison robes, loose and knee length,

apparently without any underwear, (which I later found to be the case) and with

heavy shackles on their bare feet. I remember, my first feeling was that they

were treated like slaves. Some carried large hoes or shovels, and other were

burdened with heavy bags carried on their heads. Here and there the guards, all

male to my surprise, watched them closely, armed with whips and shotguns,

keeping them working without a rest.

Shocked as I was, I must admit that right then, watching all these females, some

of them young and pretty, even dirty as they were, working in chains as slaves,

I felt my penis growing hard under my pants. Ashamed of what I then guessed it

was a sort of pervert thought, I tried to keep my mind busy in other subjects

till I arrived at the Warden's office.

The Warden was a bald man in his forties, tired and more than happy to have

somebody more literate than the guards to talk with. He soon did his best to

help me to feel as comfortable as possible. My duties were relatively simple,

he said.

Unless a convict was seriously ill my only worries would be to extract a few

thorns from the prisoners' feet, a common nuisance, since they where forced by

the rules to walk barefoot, and heal the bruises from the shackles or the

guards' whips.

In case of a more serious problem, the convicts were transported to the nearest

town and interned in a hospital.

"Overall," he said, "the job is rather tedious. Maybe having you to talk to

will relieve the boredom a little."

"By the way," he said before I left, "Do you play any chess?"

The following days were, as the Warden said, quite idle and boring. The Warden

was a nice fellow, actually, and was sincerely trying to help me. One specially

hot afternoon, in front of a tepid half full bottle of the less than mediocre

local beer, he told me of another way to keep the days from being too dull.

"You are young and healthy," he started, "Being surrounded by so many females

but having none for yourself has to be a torment for you, I suppose.

But you could use the privilege of your charge, as I do, and indulge a little

sex with one of the prisoners. They are as horny as we are, after years of

confinement, you know. Here's a convict you could use as a sexual relief, if

you want," and so saying, he handed me a file

that I read with curiosity

It belonged to a young female, a foreigner, and I immediately noticed that even

with the characteristic awful standard of of the police photographs, she looked

really attractive.

"Kathleen B., 24, Australian, height 1m74, weight 65 kg. Convicted of attempt of

smuggling 500 grams of hashish out of the country..."

I read with surprise, "...sentence: death by hanging, waiting for

confirmation"

Before I could say a word, the Warden continued: "She probably will be executed

soon, so there is no harm in using her services a little before she meets the

rope. And maybe she'll enjoy it too, so I think that she will a perfect choice

for you".

I was shocked, but remained silent anyway, keeping the possibility open.

"One more thing" said the Warden, "I don't mind what do you do with the girl, as

long as she doesn't get pregnant. That would be embarrassing of course; they

would have to postpone her death sentence and there would be a fuss about it.

There are no condoms in the infirmary, as you probably noticed already, so

you'll have to make do with oral or anal sex. (There is no shortage of

Vaseline, fortunately.) She has been in jail for almost two years now. I would

guess she will be very compliant, perhaps even submissive, by now."

I didn't answered immediately, but I already knew that I would accept the offer.

For some obscure reason, the possibility of having sex with one of the slaves,

for that's what they really were, was extremely appealing to me.

So a couple of days later I asked one of the guards, who assisted me in the

prison's infirmary, to bring the girl to my consultation room. She entered the

room with a rattle of chains and stood in front of me looking humbly at the

floor.

"Does she have to come shackled?" I asked the guard.

"Sorry, Doc, but these are the rules. We only take off their

shackles when they complete their sentences... or after they're

hanged", he replied without irony.

After dismissing the guard, I began my "clinic inspection" of the

captive.

A beautiful face, indeed, with high cheekbones below her green eyes

and curled dark hair. Even tanned by the tropical sun and without

any of the cosmetic aids that help normal women to improve their

appearance, she was a very attractive female indeed. Her slender

but firm body was hidden under the ridiculous striped prisoner's

uniform, sweaty and dirty, too short for her, reaching barely the

middle of her thighs, leaving her long firm legs bare. I also

noticed that she had nice feet, strong but well formed, even though

they were dirty and abused by having to walk barefooted all the

time. And the iron shackles on her ankles made her an even more

arousing sight...

"A slave all for myself," I thought.

"Strip off, please!" I ordered.

She took off her robe obediently and I admired her nakedness. She had a

splendid body, slender but with full breasts, a rare combination here but

frequently seen in westerners.

A dark inverted triangle of pubic hair framed her sex. She remained silent,

looking down, completely naked and shackled, waiting for me to take the

initiative. As the Warden had predicted, she was totally submissive now.

I stepped forward and stood in front of her. Simulating a sureness that I was

far from feeling, I slowly unfastened my belt, letting my pants fall to my

knees, and lowered my briefs as my penis grew rapidly to full erection.

"Kneel down!" I ordered.

She complied and now her pretty face was only a very short distance from my

erect sex. I could feel her smell, the smell of sweat and womanhood - the

prisoners could wash daily but no deodorant was allowed in the prison - and I

suppose that she could to smell my arousal too.

"Open your mouth!" I continued with a voice that wasn't mine.

She obeyed and I carefully stuck my penis into her open mouth. She slide gently

backwards with her soft lips on my foreskin, letting the soft taut head of my

organ feel its warm moisture as she humbly started to suck it. My pleasure

increased and then she raised a little, rough hard worker's hand and grabbed my

sex, tangling her fingers in my pubic hair and sucking my organ with gusto,

seemingly enjoying it.

Tremendously excited, I fetched her hair, pulling her face towards my groin,

until my penis reached the back of her throat. From my vantage point I could see

the soft white flesh of her back, with a few thin scars from the lash crossing

it, her round buttocks, her long legs, and at the end of them, her bare feet,

with their dirty leathery soles and the iron shackles around her slender ankles

connected by a heavy one-and-a-half foot long chain. It was odd to think that

these were the feet of an educated woman, the very same feet that once were shod

with nice shoes, sandals, high heels, nice stockings, only a couple of years

before.

Now she was a slave in chains, my sex slave... I could not resist anymore and

ejaculated into her mouth. To my surprise, she didn't try to withdraw,

swallowing the whole load of semen without complaint.

She remained like that, kneeeling in front of me, sweeping white milky traces

from her chin with a hand, with a sudden shine in her beautiful green eyes.

In that moment I began to think that perhaps she liked to be treated as a slave,

maybe feeling that her guilt could be punished in that way too, until the

hangman could put her to dance in the gallows, as she surely deserved.

That day I dismissed her after enjoying her only once, but three days later, I

summoned her for a more complete session.

After she had licked and sucked my penis a few moments, I took off my clothes

too and began caressing her splendid body, kissing her slightly salty big

breasts and her mouth, putting my tongue between her lips to meet hers. She

seemed to enjoy it as well, groaning slowly like a cat. Taking a small pot of

Vaseline from my desk, I carefully lubricated the head of my penis and told her

to kneel over the examination table with her buttocks towards me.

I approached her carefully, verifying that her anus was at the same level as my

fully erect penis.

I spread her thighs as far as the chain on her feet would allow, then I slowly,

progressively and inexorably inserted my full length into her rectum.

As she felt this, she arched her back slightly, with a little moan of pain, but

almost immediately relaxed and started groaning with pleasure and initiating a

slow rhythmic motion. She pressed her feet against my legs and I could feel the

roughness of her ill-treated soles and her restrictive irons. It aroused me even

more and she reacted with a louder groan to the increase in the size of my penis

inside her rectum. Then she put her own fingers into her vagina and began to

caress her clitoris, getting more and more excited. It was a tremendous orgasm

for both of us and after the climax we remained in the same position for some

time, feeling each other's hard breathing and the sweat of our bodies blended

into one.

We made love like that many times in the following weeks. We even became

friends. After the torrid sex sessions, we used to talk a lot. She expressed the

hope of having her death sentence commuted. Working in chains for several

years, even life imprisonment was infinitely better than being executed,

especially by hanging. It wouldn't so terrible to die by lethal injection, or

taking poison or even being shot, she said once, but hanged!

She knew that it was a terribly painful death, and a very humiliating one. She

couldn't imagine herself dangling from the gallows like a bag in front of the

guards. After all, she was a westerner and western women don't die in the

gallows anymore...

She was utterly wrong...

About one month later, the Warden summoned me to his office and after a few

friendly complaints about my having forgotten him, the tone of his voice changed

and he told me:

"Listen, Doc. It's probably none of my business, but I think that you have

became too fond of that woman prisoner. I must warn you that yesterday I

received a call from the Ministry, ordering me to make all necessary

arrangements for her inmediate execution . She will be hanged the day after

tomorrow at midnight.

I am very sorry, but you knew it from the start. We can't do anything about it.

Anyway, she has already been put in complete isolation right now, until the

moment arrives."

"So I won't see her any more?" I asked sensing a sudden knot in my stomach.

"Not precisely", said the Warden, "As the prison's doctor you have to witness

all the executions. Don't worry, the guards will take care of everything, but

you will have to be there." His voice sounded sincerely sympathetic, so I just

nodded and left the room.

I couldn't sleep until the night of the execution. As the Warden had told me,

everything was ready.

The execution chamber was a large room with the gallows, a simple wooden frame

in the shape of an inverted "L", in the middle.

A coarse rope with the noose dangled from it and there was a small wooden stool

exactly below it. At one side of the structure and against one of the walls, a

crude coffin waited patiently to receive the condemned woman's remains at the

end of the ceremony.

A couple of strong spotlights illuminated the scene. That was all.

In medical school I had studied about various methods of hanging: the long drop,

the short drop...

It was obvious that the method to be used in this case was the short drop, a

painful death by slow strangulation...

There was a heavy dose of sadism in the legislation that required the

application of the death penalty. The poor wenches not only had to suffer a

horrible death; it was also humiliating, like the entire penitentiary system in

the country, intended to humiliate and degrade the convicts. It was that way in

all our prisons, by the way, all of them used as labor camps where the prisoners

had to work shackled like animals.

There were eight or ten people waiting in the room, my friend the Warden among

them. They chatted calmly, as if waiting for the start of a soccer game, or some

such, rather than an execution. One of them had a video camera to record all the

details of the event.

At midnight they brought in the prisoner. The poor girl was practically naked,

dressed only with a sort of loincloth, an adult diaper, actually, to collect the

urine and feces when her sphincters opened during her agony. Her wrists were

handcuffed behind her and her bare feet were shackled as always. She looked

terrified, of course, and when she saw the gallows with the noose waiting to

accept her neck and the half opened coffin against the wall, she panicked.

Crying and begging for mercy, se tried to escape, but the guards grabbed her

firmly by her arms and dragged her brutally under the gallows and forced her

onto the stool. Then they put the noose around her neck and stepped back waiting

for instructions.

It was a sad view: the last moments of a beautiful young woman crying, bound and

almost naked, with the noose parting her curled black hair behind her slender

neck, only seconds of her death. Suddenly she saw me. I was not far than three

or four meters from her, and I could see a sudden expression of deep sorrow

appear in her face, like an utter reproach for me to be there, as one more of

her executioners.

It didn't last long, though. One of the guards grabbed her by her knees,

apparently not caring about her splendid nakedness, and lifted her up a little;

a second kicked away the stool, leaving her totally suspended by the neck from

the rope.

I could see that it was a short drop. A very short one. Only one foot, or even

less. The rope tightened up firmly and a horrible grimace appeared on the girl's

face, as she tried in vain to resist the choking noose with her neck muscles.

But the only result in her desperate effort to breathe once more was a guttural

sound escaping from her mouth.

Her white, magnificent body arched backwards as her feet tried frantically to

reach the stool again, and then her last dance started.

She began kicking back and forward, restricted only by the shackles while her

whole body contorted in agony.

It was an unreal scene: a group of men staring in silence at the almost naked

body of a woman as she struggled with the rope, hanging with her feet scarcely

one foot from the floor.

They were looking at her nice full breasts, her nipples becoming stiffer and on

her face evident signs of intense suffering, her whole face reddish and

swelling, her green eyes bulging out and her tongue protruding between her open

lips.

The guard with the camera, meanwhile, recorded the ceremony in all its horrible

details, maybe for the prison's records, maybe for personal enjoyment, even

taking close ups of her dancing feet and her tortured face.

This horrible sight lasted an eternity. I suppose that the whole process of

dying only took about ten minutes, from the start until she completely stopped

moving.

But I'm sure that for at least the first two minutes she was still fully

conscious and suffering horribly.

In the depths of my soul, I know that during all that horrible process I was

secretly aroused, praying for the other men not to notice my shameful erection,

for the sight of the girl I had possessed many times now naked in the gallows

was a totally new sensation, a not very welcome one, I must say.

But in my defense I should mention that I was not alone: in one corner of the

room one of the guards jerked off discretely and several others, the Warden

included, had evident signs of stiff erections. When she finally went limp,

spinning and dangling with a slow oscillation, I had to do my job.

Stepping forward hesitantly, I approached the body of the poor

girl. I lifted her left breast with one hand and put my stethoscope

on her chest, where the apex of her heart should be, listening for a

heartbeat. Nothing. She was dead.

With a nod, I stepped backwards, but couldn't avoid looking at her.

She was dangling so close to the floor that my head was level with

hers.

It was odd thinking that I had caressed these breasts before, kissed

them. That my lips had touched her eyes, now open with a frozen

stare, that my tongue had met hers, now protruding from her open

mouth blueish and covered with thick frothy saliva.

The guards proceeded to lift her body down, but first, as I had been

told, they removed the shackles from her feet and the cuffs from her

wrists. They didn't loosen the noose, however. They just cut the

rope above the knot and left her with the noose biting into her

neck.

Then they put the corpse into the coarse coffin as she was, with the

noose and the diapers. It wasn't necessary for me to perform an

autopsy, since her cause of death was evident: death by

strangulation.

That was all...

..............................................................................

I finished my contract a few weeks later. The Warden was truly saddened by my

departure. He talked to the authorities to get me a new job. Not in Ragi, since

my friend had retaken his old job, but in the also female prison of Amadal,

where no executions were carried out, although of course the women were

sentenced to hard labor and were put in chains as well, as the official rules

require. I didn't want to go through an execution ceremony ever again.

But his time I will go well equipped. I'm taking a large supply of condoms with

me!

 

Nice story. I read it before and it is nice to re-read it now. Thanks Pavel.

 

Lovely Pavel

 

Good story.

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