The Peace Treaty 4-5

3.5
(2)

THE ISLAND OF CONSENSUAL EXECUTIONS

The Peace Treaty

By riwa

 Author’s note: This is written by request for Arachnid with his permission and with him previewing the material, being as how it is his original idea.

An impoverished Caribbean island nation nears bankruptcy.  In order to raise cash income from “tourists”, the nation’s leaders in desperation pass a law — consensual executions of sane and un-coerced foreigners by other foreigners will be legal in public execution areas on the island. (Original idea for the Island of Consensual Executions created by Arachnid.)

4 Tidal Stakes

I am angry and bitter as I go searching the hotel for someone to vent my wrath against. I cannot believe mother knew nothing of this! I wish to express my feelings to her but she is nowhere to be found.

Gabrielle suddenly appears with my younger sister Anoria, who is all of eighteen and a half. She is in her bathing suit, but she is not wet. I hope she does not ask me to go for a swim with her. I am not in the mood.

“We must go now, little one,” my handmaiden says quietly. Then I look closer at Anoria’s face. My eyes widen in horror as my chest tightens in realization.

“Now?” I murmur in disbelief. Gabrielle nods quietly.

“It is okay, little one,” Anoria tells me as she strokes my hair. “I will be brave; I promise. I will make the family and all of Capree proud.” But I can tell by the look in her eyes it is a bravado she does not entirely feel.

I take her hand, and she smiles and appears to relax a little. Gabrielle walks us out to the beach where we follow it down the shoreline. When we round a corner I see a large floating wooden raft with a camera mounted upon it. A female tends to it as though totally unaffected by what is happening around her.

The camera faces two stakes, one to which Prince Osman is already binding some young man – a brother I presume? His best man stands watch nearby. The other post must be for Anoria.

My mind registers the scene in but a moment. I can tell by the way the beach slopes upward that the tops of the stakes will be well underwater at high tide. That’s when I begin to tremble as my chest tightens again. May the gods give me the strength to do this evil deed to my beloved sister.

Anoria instinctively grips my hand tighter as we approach. There is no one to tell me what to do, no one to instruct me. I am simply left to do this on my own at the proper time with the guidance of Gabrielle.

The Prince looks at me but does not say anything. I look at my handmaiden again for confirmation. She nods but says nothing. She is moved by my pain.

I move my youngest sister to the other stake. Then I proceed to tie her to it using the cords I find waiting for me. “I am going to miss supper,” she observes nervously. “What do they expect me to do… open my mouth and allow some fish to swim inside?” I smile at her bravado and attempt at humor as I struggle to hold back the tears.

When I am done I step back to admire my work. I cannot believe I am about to lose my younger sister. She had so much to look forward to. But now this stupid war has taken away her future, just as it has taken away mine.

The water is already nearing her toes when Gabrielle motions for me to come with her. With determination I tell her, “No! I am not leaving Anoria… not like this!”

“Go if you have to,” my younger sister tells me with kindness and love. But I can see by the look in her eyes she would rather I stay. Next to her the young man glances at us and then looks hopefully at the Prince.

“I am staying!” I declare to my handmaiden as I start to strip out of my clothes. Anoria smiles as though she is greatly relieved I will be here for her. Gabrielle starts to open her mouth, but then wisely appears to think better of it.

When I am down to my undergarments, I carry the rest of my clothes up the slope so they will not get wet. The Prince looks at his brother tied to the stake and then looks at me as I return. “Well if she’s not going then I’m certainly not going!” he declares.

He strips down to his boxers as I scowl at him. Then I give Anoria a big hug before wading out to sit on the edge of the floating raft. As much as this will pain me, I will not leave until it is over.

The female operating the camera gives me an annoyed look, but says nothing. Perhaps by sitting down I caused the wooden platform to shift around a little, affecting her camera angle. But I do not care.

Gabrielle looks at me and then waves her arms in surrender. Prince Osman’s best man appears to give up as well. The two walk back in the direction we came, staying well away from each other.

The Prince wades out in his boxers and sits on the edge of the floating raft as far from me as possible, making it shift a little in the water. Four ropes anchor it to the bottom, but it still moves some. The female camera operator scowls at him, but he just glares back at her in disgust.

The first waves of the tide reach and then cover two sets of bare feet. It is pure agony to watch. But I can tell Anoria is glad I am staying here with her. If she is going to die, she has every right to desire a member of our family to be here with her.

I do not know why mother and father are not here. Perhaps they cannot handle it. Perhaps it is because of another edict from the council. Maybe they are in negotiations for my impending nuptials.

As the hours pass, the sun lowers in the sky as the tide slowly comes in, climbing higher and higher up Anoria’s body. She gasps as it climbs her legs… gasps again when it reaches her crotch. It is distressing to watch, yet I cannot leave her. What is more, I find myself beginning to feel the shameful stirrings of what… sexual excitement at her slow drowning?

I want to go hug her again and again. But I remain rooted in place, my legs dangling in the water as I sit on the raft. She tries to show her bravery, but her smile ends up faltering.

My stomach starts growling. I have not eaten since the flight to the island. It is loud enough that I get looks from everyone.

Anoria smiles at me, chuckling at my predicament. “I can hear your hunger from here, little one. You must go eat something or I will think a lion has come to devour me on the stake.” A growl next to me indicates the Prince is hungry as well.

“I am staying here,” I tell her firmly. Again I see the gratitude in her face. When the Prince looks at me, I can tell he feels obligated to remain as well. Do I detect grudging admiration in his eyes before he looks away?

The water reaches Anoria’s protruding breasts and then climbs up to her neck. My breath catches in my throat as she starts to whimper. Next to her the Prince’s brother begins to squirm in growing unease. But he is taller than my sister. He will live to watch her drown first, and that angers me, the filthy Bakir!

It is getting dark as the water slowly climbs my youngest sister’s face, reaching her mouth. She instinctively tips her head back, wanting each and every breath. The young man next to her does not seem to want to watch, perhaps fully aware he will soon be suffering the same physical distress.

My breath catches in my throat as I helplessly watch. Those shameful sexual stirrings get stronger. I wish I could brush them aside like swatting away a fly. When I catch the Prince glancing at Anoria longer than he should, I give him an angry glare.

Soon the waves come in, rising to cover her mouth and then dropping to let her breathe. It is sheer torture hearing her gasp and sputter as she swallows water. Her eyes are wide with fright as her body instinctively fights to stay alive.

I cannot stand it any longer. I leave the raft and swim to her. “Help me, little one!” she sputters.

Since I cannot free her, I can only assume she wants me to help put an end to it. I can tell she has instinctively risen on her tiptoes. Her body naturally struggles for each breath.

There is a lump in my throat as I look at her. She bravely nods her head. I do not know if it is for her sake or mine.

“I love you, Anoria!” I declare loudly so that I can be heard above the rush of the tide. “I love you too, little one!” she sputters. Then I come around in front and give her one last hug.

Her body is warm. But it is her spasms I feel against me, her struggles to keep breathing that cause me to tremble from a perverse excitement. This is not right, but I must remain and be brave.

“Try not to hold your breath!” I encourage her. “It will only prolong the inevitable!” But I hear her gasp anyway.

I take her head and pull it down into my bosom below the surface. My heart hammers in my chest; can she feel it? I can certainly feel hers.

Tears fill my eyes as I hold her tight, refusing to allow her head back up. I seriously doubt she would be able to get a decent breath now in any event. There is too much tide… too much water.

“Just let it out, sis,” I murmur quietly as I struggle not to sob. “Just let it out. It will all be over soon.” Then there is a flush of bubbles against my chest. Almost immediately she starts to thrash about in my grasp.

I choke back a sob as she struggles against me. I should be freeing her, not helping to drown her. But the council has decided her future by ordaining her death. It is almost more than I can bear.

I feel her convulsions as she tries to breathe. More bubbles burst up at the surface. Then her body quiets as her struggles lessen.

At last there is no movement. The water emotionlessly nears the top of her stake, giving no thought to whom it has taken. The sun has gone down and my sister’s last breath has gone with it.

Next to me I hear the gaspings of the Prince’s brother as he struggles for air. His head is tipped back. But water sloshes into his mouth which he spits back out. On the raft the Prince watches coldly, virtually unmoved.

Figures…

I cannot help myself as I remain to watch the filthy Bakir suffer. I wish him nothing but a painful drowning. As he bubbles and struggles I find the excitement swelling within me. Without even realizing what I am doing I find myself shamefully humping my younger sister’s unmoving form.

The Prince’s brother gasps, sputters… chokes. But I cannot help myself. As far as I am concerned it serves him right. The least his dying can do is to provide a Capree like me with some small pleasure after all the lives his kind has claimed these many years.

Bubbles start coming up as he thrashes about, the water lowering to taunt him and then rising back up with the incoming tide. His drowning gives me great pleasure, and I shamefully I hump the body of my dead sister even harder. I climax the moment the filthy Bakir spews the last of his air and finally goes limp underwater.

Only then do I become fully aware of the shameful way I have just used the body of my beloved sister. Only then do I realize I have taken pleasure from the suffering of another. What has become of me?

Tears stream down my face as I move back. I grab Anoria’s head and tip it back to look into her eyes. Her expression reflects the horror she must have felt as she drowned, her mouth open from her last attempts to receive air. But in her vacant eyes I believe I see some semblance of the gratitude she had for my staying here with her.

I hear splashing in the water. I turn to see the Prince swim toward shore as it grows dark all around us. I am thoroughly disgusted with him, disgusted with all Bakir. Then I slip my head under the water long enough to kiss the forehead of my dear sister one last time before I make my way back to shore and retrieve my clothes…

5 Gallows Volunteer

When I arrive back at the hotel, Gabrielle takes me down to the restaurant before the kitchen closes. My stomach says I am hungry. But it is exceedingly hard for me to eat anything. Then mother comes into the dining room and rushes up to me.

I rise up and fall into her arms, the tears flowing as I sob over the loss of Anoria and Akiel. She tells me how sorry she is and expresses her gratitude that I stayed with my younger sibling until the very end. She explains that she barely had time to say her goodbyes before being called away along with father.

“I cannot believe it, little one!” she declares. “We are still in negotiations! I assumed most of the details had already been resolved!”

Hope suddenly swells within me. “Does this mean there may not be any more executions?”

“I do not know, little one. We can only hope.” Then she kisses my forehead and strokes my hair.

“I must return,” she sighs. “We are taking a break and I had to search the grounds to find you.” Then she looks at my unfinished meal.

“Please eat, little one! Do it for me!” Then she is gone. Gabrielle nods at me hopefully, so I satisfy them both by going back to my plate, having found the appetite to eat a little more…

After the meal my handmaiden and I take a walk outside the hotel. We stroll near the deck where the beheadings occur. But all we see are blocks and the blood stains of the slain. Then we hear a distinctive… THWAP!

 We head off in the direction of the sound and come across the public gallows. A noosed female hooded in white with straps around her knees and ankles jerks spasmodically as she hangs through the trap. A man descends the steps to the gallows and smiles at us when he sees us.

“It was her greatest fantasy,” he says by way of excited explanation. “I wouldn’t be at all surprised if she orgasmed as she plummeted through the trap before her neck was broken. Good night, ladies.” He nods politely as he heads off toward the hotel bar.

Gabrielle and I watch as the body is released from the noose and taken away. There are no more executions scheduled at the moment as there is no one else in line. The guard sees us and comes over to us.

“Are you two ladies here for an execution?”

“No, sir,” I reply quietly. “We are just observing. I hope we are not in the way.”

“You’re fine,” he says with a smile. Then he goes back and takes up his post in case he is needed.

“I believe I need a drink,” I tell Gabrielle. She nods as though she might need one herself. We end up heading off in the direction of the bar, both of us needing something to settle our nerves.

The two of us end up sitting at a booth deep in thought as we sip on our drinks. I cannot even begin to imagine what my handmaiden is thinking. She has been with our family for a long time. I can only surmise what she is going through, what with the executions of my family and my betrothal to a Bakir.

Seeing my younger sister at the stake must have been very hard on her. But she never mentions it and I do not bring it up. No doubt it would be painful for the both of us to dwell upon.

I notice a young woman in a modest dress step into the bar and look all around as though looking for someone. When she looks our way recognition suddenly flashes in her eyes. She has the appearance of a Bakir and I grimace inwardly in disgust when she comes over to our table.

“I know your face,” she says when she steps up to us. “You are the one to marry Prince Osman. Is that not so?”

“I am,” I state quietly, trying to hide my disdain. There is something oddly familiar about her face.

“Word has it that you beheaded your betrothed and that you drowned your youngest sister at the stake today. Is this also true?” I stiffen at the painful memories and my eyes flash angrily.

“What is it to you, Bakir?” I snort, barely able to conceal my contempt. I am not looking for a fight. But I will gladly join one if it comes my way as I am in a very sour mood.

“May I join you?” she asks politely. Then she looks all around in a conspiratorial manner before quietly adding, “I have information you may find enlightening.”

“What information? What value could your words possibly have to someone such as I?”

“I understand your mistrust, Capree maiden. Rest assured, you will want to know what I have to say.”

“Perhaps,” I reply unconvincingly. Then I wave for her to join us. “Have a seat, Bakir. We will hear this so-called information you claim to have.” But the young woman balks before sitting down.

“I will gladly share it with you,” she says quietly. “But first you must promise to grant my request.”

“What request, Bakir?” I snort derisively. I sense duplicity. Gabrielle looks at me in warning, shaking her head.

“It is a simple request, one you will have no trouble fulfilling.”

“How do I know this is not some Bakir trick?” I ask coldly.

“You have my word; it is no trick. But we must speak quickly. Then you must grant my request. I trust your word as a Capree.” Now she has me curious, both about the information she has as well as this request she wishes to ask of me.

I look questioningly at Gabrielle. She suspects a trap as well and again shakes her head. For some reason my curiosity has been piqued and I give my assent.

“Your request will be granted. You may sit and give us your information.” She sits down and then looks at me with sorrow in her eyes.

“Tell me true: was that really your sister on the stake? And did you really behead your Capree betrothed?” Gabrielle bristles at the implication we may have somehow tried to deceive both the Bakir and the peace process.

“How dare you ask such a thing?” she snorts in disgust. “Can you not see the pain in her eyes? She stayed behind with Anoria the whole time even though I did not! What is it you want, Bakir?”

Amazingly the young woman’s eyes begin to tear up. “I am very sorry for your loss,” she says in a hushed whisper. “But I fear my people are deceiving you.” She pauses before adding, “That was not my brother on the stake.”

“Not your brother?” I repeat in surprise. Gabrielle’s face betrays her shock and anger at this revelation.

“I am the sister of Prince Osman,” she tells me quickly. “I am Drucilla. My family is not sharing in the sacrifices of this peace. That is why there are still ongoing negotiations.” Then she lowers her head in shame as she tells us, “I was not aware you had actually sacrificed someone so dear to you as your sister and your betrothed.”

Instantly I am infuriated. “That filthy Bakir Prince!” I spit out, my anger frothing to a boil.

Drucilla is quick to correct me. “Forgive me, Capree maiden, but I do not think he knows. He honestly believes both sides are being duplicitous in this matter. He may be Bakir, but he is honorable. If he truly knew of your sacrifice, the pain of your loss…”

“Spare me your platitudes!” I snort derisively, totally disgusted with her and her kind. “You have given us your information. Now be gone with you!” It is with great effort I do not spit or swear at her.

“Not before you grant my request,” she says quietly.

“What is your request, Bakir?” I retort sarcastically as I spit out the word of their kind. “What demand can you possibly make of me now that I would even remotely consider honoring?”

She takes a deep breath before answering in a quivering voice. “I want you to execute me, Capree maiden. The dishonor of my people and my family shames me. I wish to be taken out to the gallows to be hanged.”

I am stunned. My handmaiden cannot believe it either as she gasps, “Are you insane?? If word gets out that a Capree has hanged a Bakir…?”

“…then they will know of our duplicity,” Drucilla finishes firmly. “Our family has been dishonored by your great sacrifice. I wish to help restore that honor. I will be the first to be executed. Maybe then they will come to their senses.”

I am stunned. “Do you realize what you are asking of me?”

“I do,” she whispers softly. Then she lowers her head in embarrassment.

“I have other reasons… shameful reasons… personal reasons. But my secret, intimate desires are unimportant. What matters is that my family… my people… will be alerted to this horrible wrong being perpetrated upon your people and upon your family.”

Instantly my attitude softens at the incredible request of this young woman. If Drucilla is indeed one of many Bakir who think and feel as she does, then I have harbored a falsehood about our warring neighbors. Perhaps these people are not so bad after all.

The idea of hanging a woman with such an honorable request is disturbing. And yet it is strangely exciting. I cannot fathom why I am becoming perversely aroused at the idea. Maybe it is because she is a Bakir.

“When do you wish to be executed?” I ask solemnly.

My handmaiden is horrified. “Surely you are not thinking about granting her request!”

Drucilla simply looks at her and then back at me. She seems fearful I might change my mind and back out of our agreement. “You must,” the Bakir woman insists, “…for the sake of both our peoples… for the sake of my family’s honor and for me.” Then she lowers her head in shame.

“It should have been me who drowned at the stake today. I will not dishonor the sacrifice of your sister by denying my rightful place by her side in the afterlife. I beg you: honor my request.”

I am touched by this Bakir woman, and I take a deep breath. Why do tears want to well up in my eyes over this enemy of my country? But I have given my word. A Capree woman must always fulfill her vow.

“I will honor your request,” I tell her firmly. Then I glare at Gabrielle, indicating she will not try to interfere. She nods reluctantly with understanding.

Drucilla sighs as though a great weight has been lifted from her shoulders. “Thank you,” she murmurs softly. But now I have butterflies in my stomach…

“Checking out?” the hotel concierge asks carefully. Drucilla nods quietly as she signs the ‘consent for execution’ form. But when Gabrielle moves to sign for me I stop her.

“I will sign the form as executioner,” I say solemnly. “If a Bakir is to be executed by a Capree then I must take full responsibility for such an action.”

“No!” my handmaiden protests. “You must be protected from the consequences of this act. Besides, a Capree should not execute a Bakir in this manner.”

“It is done,” I state as I sign my name.

Drucilla looks at me appreciatively. “You are an honorable woman. I hope I die well for you.”

I nod at her as I bind her arms behind her back. I am strangely excited as we march her out to the gallows. “This is a bad idea,” Gabrielle murmurs unhappily. But it was not her decision to make. The young Bakir woman seems resolute… even somewhat excited at the prospects of what awaits her.

It is late. For the moment there is no one in line at the Gallows as we approach. “Perhaps we will not be seen,” my handmaiden whispers, understandably anxious over what I am about to do to a Bakir.

“I hope we are!” I reply defiantly, my excitement growing.

The guard looks at us and smiles as we approach. “I see you are back,” he observes. “And I see you have brought someone with you.”

“We have information that must be relayed to your superiors,” Drucilla tells him firmly. Then she relates to him everything she told Gabrielle and I in the hotel bar. He nods solemnly, assuring her the proper authorities will be notified.

“Everything that happens here tonight is by my request,” the Bakir tells him. “No condemnation must fall upon the heads of either of these two honorable women.”

“Understood,” the guard tells her. Then he waves us forward.

Gabrielle stays behind as I assist Drucilla up the steps to the gallows. My heart is pounding furiously as I position her over the trap. “A few minor additions to my request if you do not mind,” she murmurs to me. I nod solemnly, struggling not to be emotionally overcome by the bravery of this one honorable woman among such a dishonorable people.

I strap her ankles together and then do the same above her knees. Then according to her instructions I pull down the top of her dress, ripping it and exposing her breasts. Her nipples are hard, her breathing labored. I am terribly excited as well.

“Now kiss me,” she begs. “Kiss me and fondle me like a lover.”

I have experimented with another woman before. It was not altogether unpleasant. But this time I feel certain stirrings… shameful stirrings over what I am about to do to her.

I kiss her deeply, groping her heaving mounds as though I might take her. When we pull away I discover she is as breathless as I am, appearing to stand on the precipice of a sexual climax. How can this be?

I grab for an available white hood and pull it down over her head. Then I throw the noose over the crossbar and cinch it tight around her throat. She gasps and whimpers, her thighs squeezing together.

“Now hang me,” she breathes heavily through her hood. “Hang me like the filthy Bakir slut I am.”

“No,” I murmur thoughtfully. “I will hang you like the lover you could have been had our paths crossed under different circumstances.”

I fondle her mounds one more time, noticing how erect her nipples are. I do not understand why I am so affected by all of this. Then I pull up her dress and rub the sticky fabric protecting her dripping slit.

She writhes and moans, whimpering plaintively. Then I step back and reach for the lever. “Goodbye, Drucilla. Say hello to my sister Anoria when you reach the afterlife.”

“Goodbye, Capree maiden,” she murmurs breathlessly. Then I pull the lever…

THWAP! CRACK!

She plummets through, her neck snapping in an instant. I step forward and peer down to see her body jerking in death, spasming as her legs kick aimlessly. I do not know why I find myself wondering if she had an orgasm as she fell. I am ashamed to admit that I nearly did. Then I descend the steps to the gallows and join Gabrielle who has been watching the entire time.

The two of us stare breathlessly at the hanged Bakir woman, her nipples still hard upon her exposed breasts. Liquid trickles down her legs to splatter upon the ground. Her bladder has released in death as her body slowly sways back and forth.

“Incredible,” Gabrielle breathes, trembling noticeably. “Simply incredible.” I am trembling as well, but I decide not to voice my impressions. I’m too ashamed of the way my body is tingling.

We both look at the guard who nods formally at us. Then my handmaiden and I leave the gallows area hand in hand. The two of us are deeply affected by what we have just witnessed… what I have just participated in…

(written for Arachnid Dec 16 ’11 by riwa)

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