SEATING FOR THREE
executions 

 As was the practice all of the condemned were brought in at the same time and each one was placed in a low backed wooden chair. These chairs were built just for this use and had a few special features. Each one had wide spread and very solid legs and heavy arms. Built of strong dark wood they were very stable and almost impossible for the occupant to tip over. The seat was cut away with a wide slot in the center but still allowed for good support on the sides of the buttocks. The chair back supported a vertical post with holes bored in it every couple of inches. Wide leather straps held by metal buckles were bolted to the arms and legs while a belt was secured to the lower back. Each of the women was seated in her chair and all the straps tightened, arms, legs, and waist were bound firmly but not so tight as to cause discomfort. A slop pan was slid under each naked woman’s ass to catch whatever leaked from her dying body. 
    All was ready and I made my entrance. Up to now their eyes were looking around as if trying to see as much as possible in the time left to them but now each had her gaze on me and me alone. I must admit that I am worth looking at for I have a strong muscled body that the leather pants show off nicely. The black hood lends a touch of mystery and perhaps horror to my appearance as well. As is usual the three of them display the common mix of reactions to their imminent demise. One sobs and begs, the second just sits stunned, the last watches everything while she plots and plans her escape. Behind each chair is a collapsible stand holding a weight that has a ring on the top. A noose is placed around each neck, through the convenient  hole and tied to the weight and when the stand collapses the noose is  pulled tight to strangle the doomed woman in the chair. I place each noose with the knot at the back of the neck and very soon all three have the lethal rope encircling their necks. Each one can see the other two as the seats are in a circle. I wait as each one studies the scene before her and realizes that she looks the same to them. I read each one the death warrant that has placed her here and then we wait for the clock to count down to the time after which they are allowed to die. Each one has now reverted to the behavior she had when I entered. I walk slowly around the outside of the chairs, stopping now and then behind a chair before moving on as the tension builds. The stunned one does not even react as I trip the release and allow the weight to fall. That soon changes as her windpipe is squeezed shut.  Her body begins to struggle as her lungs fail to fill with air, large breasts eave and flop, her head bangs against the post but it is all in vain. The pull of the noose in not to be denied and in a couple of minutes her thrashing body slows and then stills. I watch as the pounding pulse in her neck slows and disappears, a few drops of piss fall to the pan and it is all over.
     The screamer is next and the whole thing repeats over with her except she looses control earlier and there is much more liquid and even a few feces in the pan after her life has left. I have special plans for the plotter. She was been a pain in the ass to everyone here and even now she still believes herself to be smarter that we are but watching the death agonies of the other two has rattled her, the fear now shows in her eyes and the calm cool detachment is only a thin veneer covering her doubts. She has a much lighter weight than the others and as I stoop to remove the lap belt she just for a moment thinks she has a chance. I allow it. Then a kick drops the killing load and for the first time really feels death’s wings hovering over her head. The noose has not yet flattened her airway and she gasps and gurgles as the air whistles past the obstructing rope. Her ass bounces in the seat as it would during sex but her lover is not in her now. She has a fine fit body that carries no extra fat. Still her breasts bounce and bobble as she fights. Very nice. I stand close to her. My face will be the last thing she sees. The whistling gets higher pitched as the opening is squeezed ever smaller. Her face is darkening from the bright red it was. Still she battles, I must admit that she will not surrender even to the death. The chair rocks, her hands twist and turn as she tries to defeat the leather, the tight ass slides and pounds on the seat. Drool wets her chin, her head shakes from side to side, a negation of what is happening maybe? White froth fills her mouth and the bubbles move in and out as the foam and the rope conspire to block the air she is so desperately struggling for. It won’t be long now. She is not getting any air past the blockage. At last the movements lose their power and quickness. Like a clock that the spring has run down she slows and then stops almost all movement. Her eyes are still looking, darting around, hunting for salvation or rescue but finding none. Her breasts give a huge heave and she goes crazy for a short while. A final panicked effort that puts her whole body in motion. Then she fails and all that moves is the pulse in her neck and the muscles in her belly as she stills tries to breathe. A shudder passes over her, the pan catches the waste from her body and the only sign of life left is the slowing pulse there just under the noose. It too fades as her heart dies. They have paid for their crimes and soon they will be even less than they are now. Now they’re just dead, soon they will be forgotten.