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.)
Our trip to Santamos Island
Inspired by a story and a set of renders by SusanConquin.
Part 2
William finally found us and said everyone was gathering back in that room with the tables. When we all returned it was obvious there had been some private fucking going on. Some of the ladies found it hard to disguise the evidence of the orgasms they’d recently experienced.
Amelia looked all around to make sure we had all gathered. There was a somber feeling knowing Thomas and Isabella’s bodies were still out in the pool on the back of the yacht. Amelia looked around one last time and then cleared her throat before she began to speak.
“It’s after eleven, but I guess that’s all right. I see everyone was pretty much getting in one last fuck in case it might be their last.” She smiled as she gave Oliver a knowing look, making me think he was the one she’d been intimate with over the last hour.
“So who draws first?” William nervously asked. “Ladies first again?”
“I think we’ll start with the gentlemen this time,” Amelia said with a smile.
“There are no gentlemen here,” Poppy interjected with a chuckle, “but I must say I do prefer it that way.” There were several smiles and a few chuckles which helped to lighten the mood.
“Ok, guys. Who’s passing out your cards?”
We all looked at Amelia and then each other. Jack suggested we get Sophia to do it. I’m not sure why, other than she was one of the four original hesitant ones back home. We all agreed she would do just fine.
We nervously took up chairs around our table again. There was a distinct sense of discomfort at seeing Thomas’ empty spot. It sobered us all up, knowing one of us was soon going to be joining him by way of the necktie party Amelia and Poppy were planning.
This time none of the girls came over behind our chairs for support. They seemed nervous and uncomfortable. Maybe they were superstitious and were afraid they might get the joker after standing behind the unlucky guy at our table who drew it for himself.
The first round of cards were dealt. Amelia suggested we wait and turn them all over at the exact same time. We decided that would be ok rather than the tension of each one turning over his card separately to see if he would be the one to hang.
Oliver counted to three and we all flipped them face up. There was no joker. There were sighs of relief as well as a couple of nervous chuckles.
Sophia passed around a second round of cards. Oliver counted to three again before we all turned them over. Again there was no joker. The tension around the table immediately ratcheted up a notch.
A third round of cards were dealt, one per person. I glanced over at Oscar who silently nodded this was the round that would claim someone. I gulped as I grabbed my card, preparing to turn it over.
On the count of three we turned our cards face up. “Gawd!” George gasped, staring at the joker looking right up at him. The rest of us didn’t know whether to feel relieved or guilty over having survived another drawing.
“So that’s that,” Poppy observed, giving George a sympathetic look. “I guess it’s our turn now, girls.” Then she went over to the table and took up a seat as the others somberly joined her.
I noticed she was trying to sound rather carefree about it. But her facial features revealed her concern. She was trying to be calm about it, but I could tell she was just as apprehensive as everyone else.
“All right,” Amelia declared as though trying to take control back from Poppy. “Who’s going to deal the cards for us?”
“How about Georgie?” Poppy suggested. “I say we let Georgie deal to decide who gets to hang with him.” Amelia gave her a brief glance of irritation for stepping back into control, but chose to let it slide.
The girls had no objections as they finished taking up seats around the table. Once more there was a sense of discomfort over Isabella’s empty chair. It had to be weighing on all of them that one unlucky soul was about to join her in death.
The guys all stood up and watched anxiously as Amelia handed George a second deck of cards. He started shuffling, pouring his attention into the task at hand. I suspect he was trying hard not to think about his impending hanging.
He dealt a card one by one in front of each girl. I gave Grace a smile of encouragement. I could tell she had mixed emotions about the whole thing. At least she was putting on a brave front.
“On the count of three,” Poppy said cheerfully, getting another brief, irritating look from Amelia. “One… two… three.”
All the cards were turned over. There was no joker. There were several sighs of relief.
George dealt a second round to each one. There was a pregnant pause. Then Poppy once more counted aloud before they all turned their cards over.
Again there was no joker. It made all the girls look at each other uncertainly. I could see more than a few erect nipples pushing through bikini tops.
George dealt a third round to the ladies. By now the tension was really starting to rise. At Poppy’s count of three the cards were turned over.
No joker.
Jessica let out an anxious laugh. “Maybe the bastard can’t decide who he wants to pick.” There were more nervous chuckles.
By now even Amelia seemed unsure of herself. At least Poppy was still trying to maintain the spirit of the game despite the anxiety she was trying to disguise. “Let’s have ‘em, Georgie,” she declared, trying to sound enthusiastic.
Once more a card was dealt to each female. Now there was a tremor in Poppy’s voice as she counted, “One… two… three.” Seven cards were turned over. The joker was not among them.
There were nervous gasps from the guys as the ladies sighed with relief before looking at each other again. Jack murmured how this was really getting intense. Over half the deck had been drawn, yet the death card had failed to make an appearance.
“I had no idea the joker could be so indecisive with you ladies,” Oscar remarked with an attempt at humor. He got a few smiles back. Now the ladies were becoming squirmy and a little agitated.
A fifth round of cards was dealt out. I glanced over at Oscar. He had the perfect poker face. I didn’t know if that was good or bad.
Poppy counted, “One… two… three.” Then she turned her card over and blurted out, “Oh shit!” The joker was looking right up at her.
There were noticeable sighs of relief around the table. Several looked as though they felt guilty at surviving. Poppy just sat there for a moment in stunned silence, staring at her card.
She got up very slowly. Then she walked up to George who seemed to be genuinely sorry she’d been chosen. She smiled as she asked, “Georgie, may I have this dance?” And with that she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him deeply.
Amelia looked as though she’d been caught off guard. The joker had claimed her partner in crime. How was she going to handle it?
“Let’s go, boys and girls,” she finally said, trying to regain control of the situation. She led the way to the room with the nooses. Poppy had George escort her chivalrously as the rest of us followed behind.
Grace came over right next to me. She whispered into my ear, “I almost think it serves Poppy right for coming up with this crazy idea with Amelia in the first place. But I still can’t help feeling sorry for her.”
“Aren’t you relieved the card didn’t pick you?” I whispered back.
“I don’t know. Is this what you call ‘survivor’s guilt’?” I shrugged, wondering if maybe it was.
The nooses with their chairs underneath were still untouched, waiting patiently in the next room. A set of handcuffs sat on each chair. George and Poppy looked up at the instruments of their destruction. Then she turned and deeply kissed him again.
When they pulled apart she looked all around at the rest of us. “Naked, right?” she said to Amelia as though confirming this was what was expected of them. Her friend nodded quietly as though she still couldn’t believe her crazy little scheme had snared someone she hadn’t expected to get all tangled up in death.
Poppy reached behind her neck and pulled the string to her skimpy black bikini. The triangular pieces folded down, exposing her gorgeous 38 Cs. Then she pulled the string behind her back, causing her top to fall away to the floor. I always did like her tits.
George decided it didn’t matter if he removed his suit in front of us or not. He slipped out of his blue green trunks until they fell to the floor. His six and a half inch dick was already semi-hard.
Poppy removed her bottoms, revealing her cleanly shaved slit. Her clit looked like it was swollen. It also looked like moisture was beginning to accumulate down there.
“On the chairs, right?” she asked everyone, still trying to sound chipper. She grabbed her cuffs and clatched one onto her right wrist. George followed suit, looking as though he was simply following her lead. It couldn’t have been easy for him, not that it had been any easier for Thomas and Isabella.
Poppy climbed up onto her chair and grabbed the coil framing her face. “Hello, noose,” she said with a smile. “I guess you and I are going to become quite intimate over the next few minutes.” I think she was trying to lighten her own mood with a little humor. Some of us chuckled at her bravado.
George got onto his chair and looped the noose around his neck. Then he looked over at Poppy for guidance. With a nervous gasp she reached behind her back and attached the other cuff to her wrist, causing him to follow suit.
Everyone stared up at them, waiting expectantly. I’m ashamed to admit my dick was rock hard. Next to me Grace was panting for breath, her nipples hard behind her bikini top.
Poppy got a look at my bulge and grinned at me. Then she saw George’s erection. She smiled as she told him, “I’m glad I’m not the only one who’d aroused by all this. At least everyone’s going to have a good time watching us dance together.” There was the faintest hint of a tremor in her voice.
She looked at Amelia and smiled. Her friend still didn’t seem to know how to react at this sudden loss of her comrade-in-arms. She seemed a little numb.
Poppy smiled as she asked, “Do we get a last request?”
“What do you want?” Oliver asked kindly as though willing to do anything for her that might be within his power. Of all the swapping partnerships, they seemed to love to fuck each other the most.
“Can we have a little oral stimulation first? That would be great. As an added bonus, I think we should get to choose whom we want.”
“Who do you want, Poppy?”
“Why I want you, silly,” she said with a smile as though it should have been obvious.
Oliver gallantly stepped forward. He grabbed her legs, got his head in her crotch and started to lick. That’s when George said, “Amelia? Can I get a last blowjob from you?” That didn’t surprise anyone either.
She seemed to come out of her daze as she stepped forward. She crouched and took him into her mouth. Then she began sucking as Oliver knelt next to her while licking Poppy.
The rest of us watched in amazement, wondering if the scene could get any more surreal. There was a good two minutes or more of oral. Then we heard Poppy start to pant with pleasure.
“Yes… oh gawd, yes! Oliver, I’ve always liked your tongue. But I think you’d better stop now. I suppose the nooses are supposed to make us cum, right, Georgie?” and she turned and smiled at him.
He nodded numbly as Amelia and Oliver both stepped back. Then Poppy called out, “This one’s for Thomas and Isabella! Three… two… one!”
There was the faintest hint of hesitation as she deliberately stepped off her chair, kicking it behind her. George was also a little hesitant. But he dutifully followed her lead, if only a second or so behind her.
Both of them hit the end of their nooses with a loud gawk. The ropes pulled them up short of the floor by a good six inches. Then they hung there for a moment as though stunned at the pain they were enduring, their toes wriggling and fluttering.
George started to pedal as Poppy began scissoring with her legs. Their toes continued to stretch downward as their wrists started to jerk upwards behind their backs. Then almost as one they went right into their duet.
Poppy’s nipples were extremely hard as she kicked and twisted. She was obviously dripping from her pussy. Then her thighs came together.
Next to her George’s cock was already oozing his cream. It seemed to jump each time he kicked outwardly. He became more animated as his body fought to live.
They swung and twisted until they bounced off each other. Their brains acknowledged the presence of the one next to them as they tried to reach out with their legs for some sort of support. It only set them to spinning and kicking some more.
Poppy suddenly jerked as she brought her knees together. Then it looked like she was humping the air. George started thrusting until his cock spurted.
Next to me I heard Grace pant, “Ohmygawd; they’re both cumming!” I saw Jack had reached down and was groping his bulge. Out of the corner of my eye I caught sight of Jessica self-consciously rubbing her crotch.
It was shamefully arousing witnessing George and Poppy climax as they hanged together. They kicked and struggled for a good four or five minutes. Then they finally settled down, necks slowly lengthening as toes flickered for a floor they would never feel again.
“For our friends,” Oliver finally suggested as he stepped forward. He crouched until he could stick his face in Poppy’s crotch. Then he licked and nibbled until she appeared to twitch and shudder a little.
Amelia went forward and took George’s erection back into her mouth. She sucked as though she meant every bit of it. They gave them oral for a good couple of minutes before Oliver stepped back, Amelia following suit.
George and Poppy gently swayed back and forth from the motions of the yacht moving forward. A moment later Poppy lost control of her bladder. Urine dribbled down her legs and dripped off her toes onto the floor, forming a little puddle. George was about a half minute later, his soft cock leaking a mixture of piss and cream.
We all stood there for the longest time, watching our comrades. “Champagne?” Lily finally asked, going around giving us glasses and then filling them up. Amelia was so mesmerized by the hanging of her friend that she seemed to have forgotten.
“Er, yes… champagne. A toast to our friends.”
We all raised our glasses together in a toast. I downed mine in one gulp as Grace did the same. Then she reached down to feel my bulge.
I looked at her and nodded; I really needed another fuck. “Let’s go,” she said quietly. But as we slipped away I saw the others were already thinking the same thing and starting to pair off. We left George and Poppy swaying as the yacht blissfully motored along, unaware that two pairs of couples now swayed from nooses and pool shackles.
(Inspired by Susan Coquin and written Aug 31 ’18 by riwa)