ROLL THE DICE

    She didn’t know if it was the smell of strong tea of the banging of the door that awakened her. As she climbed back toward the land of the living she wondered about being awakened. That almost never happened. Ever since she had been sentenced to die about the only time anybody bothered her was to bring her food or to demand sex and neither happened in the morning. She looked up to see Bucky enter the cell. She didn’t know his name but he was nicknamed for his teeth. Regardless of his looks she was grateful for the tea, it had been a long night. She was used to being visited by one or three guards a night, raping her seemed to be a job perk but last night was just too much. Bucky had been the first as he had been every night since she got here and she had come to realize that she somehow was his. He was not unkind and often brought her goodies so at least she befitted from the relationship even if she had nothing to say about it. Last night there had been an endless line of hard cocks waiting to enter her, she had been taken in every hole and by singles and groups. Now the rigors of the night had left her sore and stiff as well as very tired. She was still leaking cum from her holes and some of it had dried only to crack and pull at her skin as she moved. She suspected that she was under Bucky’s  care because he spoke a bit of English. “Missy get up now, must hurry, drink tea fast, we must go.” she groaned as the movements required brought fresh aches to the surface but at least the hot tea washed the taste of  stale cum away. As she stood the thin gown fell back to cover her body. It was even dirtier than she was, indeed it was stiff in places from all the pecker tracks on it. Even when it had been new it wasn’t much more than a thin shapeless sack that just covered her ass. 
    She had been caught in the company of some guy that had been carrying dope and her protest that she didn’t even know him had not been believed. There had been a short trial and by the end of the week she had been told that she was sentenced to death for drug smuggling. Here she was, not even old enough to vote and now she never would be. The man from the consulate had tried but in the end all he could do was to ask for mercy. She had been stripped, washed, raped, and left to wonder about it all. She had achieved her dream of being popular however, her long blonde hair and her high firm tits had made her the most sought after fuck toy in the place at first. After the first few weeks  thought the mob had shrunk down to Bucky and a few others. Until last night, last night had been the worst ever. There must have been twenty or thirty dicks stuck in her. Now this early morning awaking. What was up?
    She had her hands tied behind her back and was led toward the shower room. The thought of a shower was heavenly even if it was a cold one but she was led past the door and down the hall to another one. The room was tiled from floor to ceiling with white ceramic tile and there was a large drain in the center of the floor. She spotted some tie rings scattered about on the walls as well as the floor and ceiling and there were ropes tied to some of them. A low short cot was set up next to the drain hole. “Missy take clothes off now and on bed get.”  Her first thought was that it was time for more rape as two other guards entered. She was wrong. Laid on her back and tied to the cot with her legs tied up to overhead rings and her ass hanging off the end over the drain she was  treated to a douche and had the pleasure of a warm soapy enema followed by a very complete washing. After she had finally empted her bowels into the drain she was untied and rinsed for the last time. Toweled off with a rough piece of cloth she was next led to a chair and all her hair was shaved off, all of it, every follicle from her head to her toes was shaved clean. Brushed off and retied she was led out and down the hall once more. 
    By now she was becoming worried. They were going to a lot of trouble and she could not figure out why. She should have thought of the obvious, she was under sentence of death and so she should have thought of that but somehow she expected some warning before she would be executed. She was thinking about more rape or torture or who knows what. She was led into an office and untied to stand in front of an empty desk. Another door opened and a man entered, big man, fancy uniform, gun on his hip, and carrying  a small briefcase. Sitting and opening the case he threw three dice on the desk. Odd dice though. Three different colors, red, black, white.
“You will throw the dice, one at a time or all at once. No questions allowed. Do it now.” by now she was scared and her hands were shaking as she picked the dice up and rolled them against the back of the briefcase. He looked forward at them and wrote down the results. She looked also. Red five, black two, white six, she wondered what it meant. Unknown to her she had just set the rules for her killing. The red die choose the place where she would be shot, the black choose the weapon and the number of shooters, and the white set the amount of time she would stand  waiting for the impact of the bullets. 
    Tied once more she was taken to the place where she would die. A smallish room with one wall covered with sandbags. There was a stool in front of the sandbags with a hangman’s noose dangling over it. She panicked and tried to run but nice old Bucky slapped her into quiet. “you here to die now. Stand on stool. We rope you. You stand until you shot. Stool collapse. You hang until dead. Have choice, you step off stool and hang now or wait for shooting. Hanging slow but now, shooting quicker but must stand and wait. You choose.”  She  was shaking so much she thought that she would fall as the noose was placed around her neck and pulled up until she was forced to stand tall and still. Bright lights came on to blind her to what was happening on the other side of the room. She could hear metallic noises that she took to be guns being prepared. 
    The dice had set her almost the worst death possible. The red one scored from one to six with each number denoting a different target on her body. 1 was her head, 2 was her right tit, 3 was her left tit, 4 was her bellybutton, 5 was her pussy, and six allowed the marksmen to choose where they wished to shoot her. The black one scored 1 2 or 3 as pistol while 4, 5, or 6 were rifle. The 1 and 4 meant one shooter, 2 and 5 meant two, and 3 or 6 meant three bullets would strike her. The white die granted her five minutes for each number, she would stand and wait for thirty minutes unless she stepped off the stool to hang. If she had known what the dice had chosen for her she would have been better off to have done that but she wanted to live as long as possible so she chose wrongly.
    Her hands were freed and everyone left her alone to face her death. “Mary Beth Simmons, you have been tried under the law and found guilty of a crime deserving of death. It is now time for you to pay for your actions. You may choose to end your life yourself by simply stepping off the stand under your feet or you may stand until the firing squad ends you life for you. I strongly advise you to stand still until you are shot. Any movement on your part may cause the bullets to strike you  in a nonfatal place and then you  would suffer a slow hanging. As of this moment you are dead. Make your peace with whatever god you worship and may he have mercy upon your soul.”  Her knees buckled but the rope pulled her up short before she fell and she managed to stand back up. 
    She managed to force herself to stand straight as she awaited the impact of the bullets. Unaware of the conditions set for her by the random roll of the dice she was expecting only a short wait before several high powered rifle slugs would blast the life from her body. She stood and waited. And waited. Somewhere there was a clock that ticked away her life. She could hear it along with the faster beating of her heart. Bada boom, bada boon, tick, bada boom, bada boom, tick. Her legs were shaking and threatening to collapse but she was damned if she was going to give them the spectacle of her nude body dancing on the rope. Besides she still wanted every second of life she had left and was not going to willingly surrender any of them. There were still noises coming from the darkness in front of her, still voices and thumps, clicks and clacks. Those that would kill her were still out there and were ready to apply the death sentence. 
The clock continued to count down the time she had left and she wondered how many more ticks she had left, how many more times would her heart beat before it was shattered by the lead slugs? The time both dragged and flew by. She tried to count her breaths but each new sound spooked her and she would lose count. How much longer would they make her wait before the end came. The black wings of death were hovering over her, she could feel the cold draft from them and she was shivering as the sweat poured from her shaking body. Just before she was ready to step off and end the horrible wait there was a pair of clicks from the darkness. As she tried to look past the lights she saw two small flashes.
    The impacts took her in the belly, low in the belly, one struck her just at the top of her pussy slit and the other a couple of inches higher and off to the left side. Of course she was unaware of the exact placement, all she felt was the strike of the twin slugs and the soft muffled sound of the shots. She was knocked back and lost her footing, she was hanging, being strangled by the hard rope. There was no pain yet and she managed to find the top of the stool and regain her place of safety there. Her mind was stunned and confused, she had been shot but not where she had expected, there was no pain, just a numbness and she was still alive. Now what? If you lived after being shot did they let you go or did they shoot you again? Her crotch felt wet and her fingers explored the area. She found the holes and the blood that was leaking from them. There was more running from her pussy, piss hole, and ass. Her legs were being painted with it, not only blood but piss and the remaining contents of her bowels. Although she did not yet realize it her wounds were fatal but they would not kill her. She stood and waited for whatever would come next.
    Next was the pain, terrible burning pains, cramps that drew her legs up until she was hanging be the forgotten rope. She could force herself to stand but only at the cost of absolute agony in her belly. The dance on the end of the rope was slow and very sexy as she struggled to find the one place that would allow her to both lessen the fire in her guts and still breathe. She tried one leg up and the other down, she tried to squat as low as the rope would let her, she tried to lift herself up by her arms. Nothing gave her any relief so the dance continued. No longer interested in nor even aware of  anything else she struggled. The blood flowed and she weakened but still she danced. She slipped in the pooling blood as she fought but she still danced. She could still hear both her heart as it beat faster and faster trying to pump the smaller and smaller amounts of blood to her body, the clock still ticked as it timed her last minutes but she was not listening to either. She was dancing for her life. She was dancing to avoid the dark wings that were hovering over her. Men and women entered the light and they were overcome by her dance. They coupled in front of her, acting out a celebration of life as she danced to her death. She did not see or hear them as they reacted to the raw sensually of her dance. Her vision was clouding and darkening as her dancing slowed. Now she could hear the desperate thumping of her heart and the raspy breath sounds as she fought for each tiny sip of air. The dance was almost over, she was losing the ability to hold herself up enough to breath. The rope was winning with the help of the two bullet holes that allowed her life’s blood to drip away. She still danced but it was only a slow parody of her earlier efforts. At last her legs failed her and she slipped off the stool to hang twitching and gurgling. Her dance was over and it was time for the dark wings to enfold her and carry her away. She had paid the price even though it was not a bill she owed.