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.)
Executing Dorothy on Santamos Island
I head up to room 407 and politely knock on the door. A rather attractive, curvaceous blonde in a light-colored silk blouse, short leopard print skirt and heels answers the door. She looks like she might be in her mid to upper thirties.
I wonder for a moment what it was that caused her to partake in the Island lottery. Was it the risk? The reward of surviving several nerve-wracking days of whether or not your number might be called? Or was it something more? No matter; her number has been drawn.
“Can I help you?” she asks politely, giving me the once over. She gets this look in her eyes as though she might like to get to know me better. Sadly there’s not much time for that now.
“Miss Curtis? Miss Dorothy Curtis?”
“Bloody hell, love; please don’t be so formal.”
“My apologies. You were entered in the Island lottery? You chose number 13?”
Her eyes suddenly flash excitedly. “Did I win? You mean I won? What did I win??” Her reaction is not what I expect.
“I’m not sure it’s what you’d call a ‘win’, miss. Since your number has been drawn, you must now be executed.”
“Executed?? Bloody hell! What kind of lottery did I enter??”
“This is the island of consensual executions, miss. Haven’t you noticed people being taken out to be executed?”
“Well of course I have!” she responds indignantly. “I’m ashamed to admit it’s been terribly erotic to witness those executions.” Then I see the shock flash in her eyes as a hand comes up to cover her mouth.
“I was down in the dining room and I overheard them talking about the lottery, so I signed up. You mean if your number is drawn you must be executed??”
“I’m afraid so, miss. Don’t you remember signing that waiver when you entered the lottery?”
“Yes, but… bloody hell!”
Her knees suddenly come together as her face flushes crimson. “I’ve got to go to the loo right now and… oh, never mind. Just come inside before somebody sees me like this, ok?”
I step inside and close the door behind me as she makes a beeline to the bathroom. “So what happens now?” she calls out through the open door.
“Excuse me, miss?”
“I said ‘what happens now’?? …to me I mean? What happens now?”
“Well miss. I guess you make arrangements for the ‘who’ and ‘how’ of your execution.”
“The ‘who’ and ‘how’? You mean who executes me and how they would do it?”
“Bloody hell! Would you stop being so formal? Please call me ‘Dottie’. You make me feel like… like I’m going to be executed or something. Oh hell; that’s right. I really AM going to be executed!”
“That’s ok, miss… er, uh… I mean Dottie. You’ve got time to get your affairs in order.”
“But I don’t know anybody here!” she protests as she emerges from the bathroom in another skirt. “I haven’t had much chance to mingle. I’ve been down to the bar and all. But to pick out an executioner right out of the blue? Bloody hell, love!”
She looks at me closely and I find myself blushing. She’s quite attractive and I find myself thinking about how she might look while being executed. I’m getting a boner and I instinctively try to cover my crotch. But it’s much too late as she’s already noticed my growing bulge.
She looks at me and despite the news I’ve given her she actually gets this sly smile. “What about you, love? You look like the kind of guy who adores taking women out and executing them.” I blush again, the bulge in my trousers becoming more pronounced.
“Well miss, uh… I mean… yes, Dottie. I’ve executed women before.”
She looks at me as though seeing me in a whole new light. I swear her breath catches in her throat. Then in a trembling voice she asks, “How would you execute me, love?”
“Now I don’t know. You see I prefer using the axe. “It’s relatively quick but I, uh…” I pause, not wanting to tell her the rest.
“You what?” she asks curiously.
“You don’t want to know.”
“You might as well tell me. It seems I don’t have much time for niceties.”
“Well I, uh… I tend to keep the heads. I like to fix them all up. Then sometimes I, uh… I like to, well… I like to use them afterwards.”
I’m embarrassed as hell. But now she seems even more breathless. “Bloody hell, love! You mean you’d take my head off and then use it again for…”
“Yes, Dottie; that’s what I’ve done in the past. But I promise I won’t use your head like that… well, not if you ask me not to.” I feel I’ve shocked her enough today to at least give her some consideration in the matter.
“I guess I don’t have any choice in the matter now, do I?” she says carefully. “…not if I choose you as my executioner. I take it you can do anything you want with me after it’s all over. Is that right?”
“From a technical standpoint I suppose that is correct.” Now my cock is even harder in my trousers. It’s virtually impossible to hide it from her gaze.
“I suppose if it must be done,” she sighs reluctantly. Then she looks right at me.
“What am I supposed to wear to my, uh… my execution?” She stammers as she struggles to spit the word out.
“Anything you want, Dottie.” I figure I owe her that much.
She looks at me and smiles before turning and going over to her dresser. “Give me ten minutes to get ready, ok? Then you can come and get me.”
“Now? You mean you want to do this now??”
This is a bit unusual. After all, I half expected her to try to delay the proceedings for a while. But she responds, “I can’t sit around in my room all day just waiting to be executed, love. I’ll go stark raving mad. So let’s get this thing over with, ok?”
“If you say so, miss… er, uh… I mean, if you say so, Dottie. I’ll leave you to it then.” And with that I beat a hasty retreat, my cock straining in my trousers…
I return ten minutes later and quietly tap on the door. “Miss Curtis? Dottie?”
I hear a “Just a second” from the other side of the door. Thirty seconds later it opens. Dorothy Curtis stands there in heels and dark sheer nylons, a long beige colored wrap around her shoulders covering her from view.
She grabs her wrap and slowly opens it, letting it fall off her shoulders. She proudly shows herself to me. Then she asks “Is this presentable for my beheading?”
My cock hardens in my trousers as I gawk at her tight black corset. Her large breasts are supported by something sheer that fails to disguise how hard her nipples have become. Down below, her garter attaches to a set of sheer nylons, several clasps attaching to each leg. Her panties are also sheer as the decorations down there pull one’s eyes right to her crotch.
My mouth falls open and my tongue hangs out. It is totally unprofessional of me. But she smiles at me as though appreciative of my reaction.
“I thought this might be appropriate,” she tells me with a sly wink. “I’m ready for my beheading now.” Then she takes my arm so I can escort her down the hall to the elevator.
We walk up to the hotel concierge where we sign the requisite forms. Then I take her over to the nightclub. Everyone stares at us as we walk up to the bar.
As another courtesy I buy her a stiff drink. But I choose a club soda for myself. After all, I’ll be wielding an axe within the next few minutes and I want to be accurate with my swing.
In no time at all every male finds himself staring at her in her very eye-catching outfit. She seems to love the attention. Then she downs her drink in one gulp.
It’s obvious she’s nervous as hell. Then she loudly proclaims, “I’m ready for my beheading, love! Take me to my execution!!”
Every eye remains on her as we head for the exit. There are several murmurs as though folks are shocked she’s going to her death so casually. I get the distinct impression if she’s going to die she wants to be saluted by every cock around her.
We head out the other door to the ocean-view deck out back where the axe and block are waiting. The seriousness of her situation suddenly hits her hard as she catches sight of the objects of her demise. “Bloody hell, love!” she gasps, her breath catching in her throat.
I’m aware of the stampeding of feet behind us as the nightclub empties out in mid-afternoon. It seems that everyone wants to watch me execute Miss Curtis. She seems to enjoy the attention, but I can tell she’s starting to get nervous.
“I have to tie your arms behind your back now, Dottie.” She dutifully turns around, obediently bringing her arms up behind her back. She’s trembling as I tie her wrists together with rope.
I turn her around to face me. “Miss Dorothy Curtis?” I proclaim loudly for one and all to hear. “You have entered the Island lottery of your own free will and have signed the requisite forms! Your number – the number thirteen – was officially drawn today! Therefore, it is my duty to execute you as per the rules of the lottery! Have you anything to say before sentence is carried out?”
She looks at me and blinks as though her mind has suddenly gone blank. Then she inhales sharply. A flash of real fear appears in her features as her knees start to buckle.
I catch her and then help guide her down to kneel in front of the block. She faces several witnesses who have gathered and are standing behind me as others encircle us. I stretch her neck out across the block, carefully forcing her head down.
“Now don’t move, Dottie,” I tell her authoritatively. “At this stage of the game you really don’t want me to miss, do you?” Then I reach for the axe.
My cock is extremely hard within my trousers. But there’s no time to deal with it now. I decide I’m going to need a release after this is all over.
I get a good grip on the axe and then start to lift it up. “WAIT!” Dottie blurts out anxiously. I can see her body shaking as she starts to hyperventilate.
“Miss Curtis?” I ask sternly, about to lecture her for taking the execution this far only to bring it to a halt. Then she quietly gasps, May I have a last request?”
“What is your request, Miss Curtis?” I want to get this over with so I can go back to my room and jerk off. Maybe I could use her head to get me off. Then I decide I shouldn’t do that, at least not in front of all these people. It would be too degrading to her.
Her request stuns me. “I want to suck your cock,” she says in a quivering voice. “I want a man’s cum on my lips when my head rolls.”
It seems a solution to my desire for sexual release has just presented itself. I’m not sure I want to have her blow me in front of all these spectators. But I don’t see how I can decline her request.
“Granted,” I tell her and I carefully put the axe down.
I step in front of her and unzip my fly to the cheers and catcalls of the spectators all around us. My cock emerges all stiff and throbbing. The tip is already beaded with pre-cum.
She rises up on her knees, leans forward and then laps up my pre-cum. Then she slowly sucks me into her mouth, moaning softly. She starts to apply suction, her cheeks going concave.
Obviously she’s done this before. I hear one man’s voice from the gathered witnesses jealously proclaim, “Lucky bastard!” My face flushes red with embarrassment.
I thrust nice and slow in an effort to be both polite and respectful. But the whole damned thing has made me harder than hell. Her sexy attire… me about to separate her head from her shoulders… the anticipation of the gyrations her dying body will make… all of it combines to make me stiff and quivering for a release.
I find myself grabbing her by the back of her head, losing myself in my eagerness to fuck her face. She does not resist, grunting and moaning as she ravenously sucks harder and faster. Her imminent death and my role as executioner have made us more lustful for each other than I could have possibly imagined. My only regret is there is no time to fuck her pussy before taking her head. Besides, that would be much too embarrassing out here in public.
My cock swells in her mouth; my explosion is imminent. I thrust hard and deep, gagging her as it reaches the back of her throat. Then she grunts as she gets a taste of my seed.
Her head suddenly jerks backward out of my hands. My next shot splatters her face. Instinctively I grab my cock, squeezing out my cum all over her cheeks.
She gasps and moans, her tongue coming out to lick my spunk off the tip of my shaft. Then she looks up at me, her eyes smoldering with lust. It’s almost as though she’s goading me into executing her by her expression. “Don’t you think I deserve to lose my head now over a slutty thing like that?”
Something suddenly overcomes me. I roughly force her head back down upon the block into position. She gasps and whimpers, her chest starting to heave as she hyperventilates.
I hear her moan softly as I pick up the axe and heft it above her. I hear an audible gasp from the spectators as I gently bring the blade down to judge my strike. I allow it to nick her exposed neck.
She gasps and whimpers, trembling like mad. I suspect she has just wet herself. I wonder if it’s all she can do to force her head to remain in place.
I heft the axe upward. Then I bring it down hard. It goes right through her neck, hitting the block with a loud THUNK!
Her head virtually leaps away, bouncing off the deck and then rolling to a stop. The crowd gasps the moment the blade comes down. A few of them jump with a start, and I hear a couple of shrieks. Then they all start to cheer.
Blood spurts out of her severed neck as her body begins to jerk and spasm. Then it reluctantly topples over onto its side, convulsing in its death throes. That’s when I begin to distinguish some comments from the gathered witnesses…
“Gawd; did you see her wee herself right there at the very end?” “I wonder if she was cumming when the blade fell! It sure looked like she was cumming!” “Do you see what she’s wearing? And did you see how hungry she was for the executioner’s cock? Damn… now I’VE got a boner!” “She was a cock-tease; that’s for sure! Did you see her come into the nightclub like she wanted every eye on her? She was a prick-teaser and she got what she deserved!!” “Damn! That’s one beheading I ain’t NEVER gonna forget!”
I reach over, bend down and lift up her head to more applause. Dorothy has this shocked look on her face. Blood trickles out of her mouth and nose as it also drips out of her severed neck.
Her mouth is open as though she tried to scream at the last moment. Her face is stained with my cum. I get the erotic shivers something fierce as I detect a faint aroma of urine. Her sheer panties are thoroughly soaked.
I look deeply into her eyes. Can she see me looking at her? It’s almost as though I can hear her voice in my mind, telling me to take her head home and enjoy it. So I decide that’s exactly what I’m going to do.
As I walk away with my prize I hear the cart pulling up to the deck behind me, her coffin waiting inside…
2012; 2018 (written for Dottie Sep 11 ’12; ed. Nov 20 ’18 by riwa)