CLICK CLICK CLICK

Garrote

   The post was waiting. Waiting quietly for her. Just rough wood with a rude seat. And chains, and rings to anchor the chains to. And a metal collar with the wheel spun screw to pull it tight around her neck. Tight enough to squeeze the life from her. Waiting. 
   She was seated on the board that stuck out from the side of the post, back to the post. The wood was warm against her bare skin. Even the steel chains that secured her wrists to the sides of the seat were warm. A soft clank from behind her head. It had begun. In minutes she would be dead. She had seen the device behind her head. A steel plate mounted to slide on two rods, moved by the turning of a screw, moved by a hand on the wheel at the end of it. Moved only one way because of a ratchet dog on the screw. The clank was the dog engaging the teeth. Then the collar was placed over her throat. Just a glimpse of it was all she got but enough to see the rod welded to the inside of it. The rod that would crush her windpipe as the
collar tightened around her neck. Hands fussing with getting things ready. Then it started for real. Each movement of the wheel was felt and heard. Felt as the collar slowly tightened against her skin. Heard, click, click, click, click. Each click counted another second of her life. A last breath before it was impossible to breathe anymore. Then all rational thought fled.
   Those watching saw a teenager naked on the scaffold. Large breasts and full hips. Nice legs leading to an inviting place between them. He pretty face was contorted by the pain and the panic as she started to die. Click, click, click. Fingernails dug into the palms as she clenched her hands. Her feet slid and slipped on the bare wood floor. The legs both kicked up and out or pushed her ass up away from the seat. Fighting and gasping, beasts bouncing, her efforts only causing her pain. Click, click, click. Blood leaking from her mouth, a bitten tongue or lip perhaps. More running down her neck as the edge cut her skin while she thrashed. Still click, click, click. Her efforts now rewarded by only a high pitched whistle. Not enough air to live on. Click, click, click. One last desperate effort lifted her ass almost as high as her head. Her spread legs allowing a clear look into her virgin organ. Click, click, click. A sudden collapse left her moving just enough to prove she still lived. Those close enough could see the neck bulging on either side of the collar. Click, click, click. Her hands fall open as her arms go limp. The legs stretch out in front of her as they too fall limp. The large breasts now just quiver. Click, click, click. A splash as the contents of her bladder are released. The puddle forms under her body. A final spasm shakes her flesh and then she is still. Click,----click,--------click, ----------click. It is over now except for the wait. She is dead but the heart still beats. It slows over the next ten or fifteen minutes before the pulse ceases to try to push blood past the collar to her brain. Still she will be left in the garrote’s embrace for another hour before she will be freed. Freed so another could listen as she dies. Click, click, click.