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.)
13 Desperate Pleasures
Prince Osman tenderly dries me off in the bathroom before going into the other room in a robe and arranging for the bloodstained sheets to be changed. When a maid accomplishes that task he returns for me, carrying me back into the main room. He gently places me down upon the bed as though fearful he might break me. Then he removes his robe before climbing in next to me.
This time his kisses are like rose petals as he covers my naked body with them. He suckles gently upon my breasts, filling me with a terrible fire of desire. Then he gently moves down between my legs, tenderly kissing me until his mouth finds my hardened nub, his tongue lapping between the folds of my labia.
I writhe and moan, totally astonished how a man I had once loathed can fill me with such passion and longing. His loving tongue brings me to orgasm once… and then once again. Then he gently climbs on top of me and slides his erect member into my warm, wet orifice.
His thrusts are slow and measured, bringing me to new heights of pleasure. His lovemaking increases with intensity as he takes me to a higher plateau. Then we come crashing down together in mutual orgasm, our writhing, sweaty bodies pressing hungrily against each other.
As we rest together in each other’s arms he apologizes for his cruel actions of the last couple of days. It shames me to think I have despised him so. I plant kisses all over his face, apologizing profusely for my own terrible thoughts and actions.
We talk long into the night of unfulfilled hopes and dreams. We talk of our families and how much we will miss them. We talk of the peace process where I learn he now despises it every bit as much as I do. Then he brings up my handmaiden Gabrielle.
“I am sorry, Princess,” he murmurs sadly as tears well up in his eyes. “I’m afraid I took this to the council. I do not know if it can be undone. They will expect a morning sacrifice.”
He pauses before shamefully lowering his head. Then he tells me in a quiet voice, “I will understand if you cannot forgive me for this offense. It is an appropriate reaction for the harm I’ve inflicted upon you.”
I can see in his eyes he is deeply remorseful by this. I cannot help but be moved as I gently kiss his cheek. “I know you are grieved, my Lord. I cannot – I will not – hold this against you. As much as I may wish to, I simply cannot. You have captured my heart. It is the war and the actions of the council that has led us to this point.”
“It is a heavy burden we both must bear,” he agrees, sighing heavily. “I do not know how we are to take the events of the past two days into a marriage forced upon us by those who seek to make peace after they have made war for so long.”
“Very heavy indeed. I do not know how I will be able to carry such a burden. But I am Capree, so I must try.”
“I am sorry my people placed this upon your shoulders, Princess.”
“And I am sorry my people have done the same to you, my Lord.”
“May I call you…?” he starts to ask hesitantly. I nod my head. Then he breathes “Little one” as he softly and lovingly strokes my hair. Tears fill my eyes.
We quietly discuss the scheduled morning events and what may happen to Gabrielle. Our hearts are broken with so much sadness and grief. How can we who are so young deal with the actions of our elders?
We look deeply into each other’s eyes. I see resignation there… and something else. It is the same that is reflected back to him from my own eyes. Would it even be possible?
We are silent for the longest time, looking at each other as we communicate so much with just our eyes… our expressions. Speech no longer seems necessary. Then we hear a noise outside the window that causes us to turn as one to investigate.
Surely it cannot be the gallows; the hour is not right. The block also seems unlikely. Still, is it possible someone has committed an execution in the wee hours of the morning?
We turn to look at each other, again both thinking the same thing. We suddenly wrap ourselves up in each other’s arms, kissing each other fiercely. Time is so short; the sun will soon intrude with its rays through the window.
Instinctively we begin to writhe together, the two of us making wild, passionate love as though the end of the world is upon us. We bring each other to orgasm again and again, engaging in desperate pleasures. But we are forced to call a halt to our union when the windows lighten with the rising of the sun.
Regretfully I am forced to dress before departing to my room. To prepare for my wedding day? Or for something else? Inwardly I have already decided.
“I will meet up with you then in the hotel lobby?” the Prince says quietly. And with that I know we are both in agreement.
“I will meet you there, my Lord,” I murmur with a nod. I give him one last, tender kiss. Then I slip out the door. Arrangements must be made. There is so little time…
14 The Last Flash of the Scimitar
Gabrielle quietly helps me dress in the room we share. Few words are spoken, the two of us knowing she is to be beheaded within a short time. When she has helped me into my modest bridal gown I hug her fiercely, the two of us sobbing quietly.
“I love you, Gabrielle,” I tell her, blinking tears out of my eyes. “I am going to miss you so very much.”
“And I you,” she says in a reserved voice. “Do not mourn me, little one. I go to my death with a glad heart. I go for you and for Capree.” It is not lost on me that she too has grown disgusted with the whole peace process.
We walk together down to the hotel lobby where Prince Osman is waiting for us. He looks so fine in his formal wear and my love for him surges within my bosom. Then we walk to the hotel concierge where we sign the requisite forms.
“Little one?” my handmaiden asks in confusion. “Am I not supposed to sign my own…?” But I interrupt her with a wave of my hand.
“As you have signed for me these days, so I now sign for you.” But she is still confused.
“Am I not supposed to…?” and again I wave her to silence. Yet she persists.
“But you and the Prince… you have just signed TWO forms, have you not?”
“Is my handmaiden questioning me?” I ask her sternly. She is properly chastised and bows her head.
“No, little one. I am simply here to serve.”
“Good. Then let us go forth.”
The Prince smiles at me as I take his arm. Gabrielle leads us out to the deck. My heartrate increases at what is to come.
A crowd has gathered as have two cameras. For such a solemn and special occasion there are now two news crews. For some reason my heart is light, as though a cumbersome weight has finally been lifted.
The day is sunny as we reach the deck, a bright sunshine as though heralding a new day. When we arrive an important looking man sees us and promptly steps up onto the deck in full view of the crowd and the cameras. Gabrielle is understandably nervous.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” he announces with a flare. “It is our great pleasure to announce to you today a negotiated peace between our two countries – Bakir and Capree.” His announcement is met with applause.
“To consummate this process we are about to witness the joining of two citizens of our two great countries. But first we will all bear witness to a final shedding of blood in celebration of the peace we have struggled for so long to achieve.”
There is more applause as he motions for the Prince to come forward. He steps away from me and takes his place near the block and the scimitar that waits to be stained crimson, taking yet one more life. Then he formally nods at Gabrielle and I.
My handmaiden swallows hard. Then she bravely takes one step forward before I grab her shoulder, stopping her. “Not this time, Gabrielle,” I tell her softly. Then I smile sadly as I hand her the two papers.
She looks at me in astonishment. Then she quickly skims them both. A moment later she stares at me in complete and utter shock.
“Not a word,” I tell her sternly, holding up a finger in warning. “Not one word; do you understand?”
She is totally dumbfounded as tears fill her eyes. Then she nods her head, silently mouthing the words, “I love you, little one.” Then I turn and make the short walk to the deck.
There is an audible gasp from the crowd as astonished conversations start to break out everywhere. “Now just a moment!” the important looking man stammers. “This is not proper!”
“There will be silence in the crowd!” Prince Osman demands loudly.
The clamoring voices are reduced to murmurs. When he has everyone’s attention he makes a loud proclamation. “THIS is what we think of your cursed Peace Accord!”
I am trembling when I reach him and carefully kneel. I work his trousers and free his flaccid manhood. With an incredible excitement I use my hands to harden him to the astonished gasps of the onlookers.
As he hardens I take him into my mouth. I use that opportunity to pleasure him one last time the way he has given me such pleasure in his room these last few hours. Now I simply take my time, reveling in my new role.
At long last he gives me the precious gift of his last load. Some of it splatters my face as I take him out of my mouth at the last second. I savor the flavor of his seed on my tongue, regretting that circumstances have led us to this moment in time. But we both know we cannot marry under the terrible burden the council has placed upon us.
When I am done I help zip up his trousers. Then we wrap our arms around each other in a loving embrace.
“I love you, my Lord,” I breathe tenderly as he proceeds to tie my hands behind my back.
“And I love you, little one,” he replies when he is finished with the knots, tears in his eyes as he gently kisses my forehead.
He turns to the crowd expectantly as they stand in stunned silence. Then he turns back to me… whereupon he viciously rips my gown down the front, exposing my breasts. There is another audible gasp from the gathered spectators.
“THIS is what the council wants!” he proclaims, motioning at me as I quiver from an incredible excitement. “They want blood and the humiliation of our enemies. And so they shall have it! I shall now execute this Capree woman – a maiden I have come to love and cherish – as befitting the council’s wisdom!”
He brutally shoves me down upon my knees, forcing my head upon the block. A couple of indignant voices start to cry out in protest, no doubt members of the council. Clearly this is not what they were anticipating.
They are cut off with a roar from Prince Osman. “SILENCE! MY BETROTHED HAS SIGNED THE PAPERS!” They are stunned into silence.
In confirmation, my handmaiden obediently lifts them up in trembling hands as the cameras turn to capture them being displayed. I can tell by the look in her eyes that she now understands what is about to happen here today. Then she nods at me with a look of love and pride mixed with great sadness in her eyes.
I am trembling from an intense excitement I have never known until now. My death is imminent yet my senses have never been so sharp nor my arousal so pronounced. I am exposed and humiliated. But this is the only way for me, and I welcome it with open arms.
I have never felt a greater peace than I do at this very moment. I am to be sacrificed like a commoner – a willing Capree whore. Yet it is what I desire and the Prince totally understands this.
He takes the scimitar and holds it above me, measuring his strike. I try to stretch my neck out further, giving him a good target. I feel his eyes upon my exposed breasts and I tremble excitedly from his hungering gaze.
He carefully brings the blade down to measure his stroke. It nicks my neck. It is deliberate on his part and it triggers my orgasm.
An incredible wave of white-hot pleasure flows through me as I moan weakly. My beloved has blessed me with one last kindness – a climax of epic proportions. “Slay me, my Lord,” I breathe, my body trembling as I am barely able to contain my euphoria. Then he lifts the blade upward before quickly bringing it down.
I hear a loud THUNK! All sensations below my neck immediately cease as my world tumbles. My head bounces off the deck and I am amazed I am still conscious.
A moment later I feel like am flying as I am lifted upward to face the audience. There is stunned silence from some… polite applause from others. I would laugh if I could make the sound emerge from my lips.
I am turned to see my body writhing in orgasm, blood spurting out of my neck as it spasms in its death throes. A yellow stain appears on my dress. My dying corpse has just pissed itself.
I no longer care as it does not matter anymore. It is most appropriate for a Capree whore. I would smile with satisfaction were I capable of moving my facial muscles.
The last thing I see is the face of my Lord, a look of love mixed with sorrow in his eyes. I have a fleeting memory of our time together back in his room. I mentally thank him for those few precious, glorious hours. Then my vision gives out as he tenderly kisses my lips.
For a moment I am in darkness. Then I see a growing light, followed by the appearance of several shapes. It is my family, eagerly rushing forward to greet me.
Mother takes me in her arms, sobbing with tears of gladness. “I knew you would be joining us, little one,” she beams, kissing my face over and over again. “Somehow I just knew it.” It is my last conscious thought as I am filled with great joy. Then I am enveloped in the total blackness of death…
EPILOGUE:
Gabrielle hands the papers over to Dunstan, Prince Osman’s best man. I have signed for her to execute my Lord, just as he signed to execute me. Then she comes forward and takes the scimitar from the Prince.
She binds him and has him kneel with his head upon the block before the gathered spectators as well as the members of a truly shocked council. Before the last flash of the scimitar he calls out to the crowd and to the cameras…
“We cannot live under this peace if we are forced to execute the people we hold most dear! I loved this Capree maiden! And yet I was compelled to execute her at her request, just as this Capree woman is executing me at my request! If the council cannot see the atrocities of the past couple of days then maybe our people deserve to slaughter each other until none are left! As for me, I place this debacle wholly upon the heads of the members of the council!” Then he turns to my handmaiden.
“Make sure little one and I are buried together. May you have a long and happy life, Gabrielle. I am ready.” Then he leans forward and bares his neck.
“You are an honorable man, Prince Osman,” she replies, tears in her eyes as she measures her strike. “It will be done.” Then she carefully hefts the blade upward before bringing it down…
THUNK!
The head of the Prince flies off his neck. Ironically it rolls to a stop at the feet of the important looking man who began the proceedings. The man is utterly horrified, covering his mouth with his hands in shock as the face of Prince Osman glares up at him accusingly.
POSTSCRIPT:
Prince Osman and I are buried together. But there is a lasting peace between our two countries. The individual members of the council in their shame all volunteer to be executed for the cruelty of the proceedings they inflicted upon all parties.
Gabrielle and Dunstan are assigned the duties of executing each one. Not surprisingly they fall in love and get married. But they choose to stay upon the island, facilitating executions for those of our two peoples who come of their own free will to face death for whatever reasons each individual harbors.
2011; 2018 (written for Arachnid Dec 25 ’11; ed. Aug 26 ‘18 by riwa)