{
  "writing": "[center][b]Meeting Your Execution[/b][/center]\n[center]By XP Author[/center]\n\n[i]Excerpts from the book 'Differences In How The Condemned Meet Their Execution. A guide for executioners. Volume 1' by Aldalus Fendan'[/i]\n\nI should start this guide with a little about the one who shall be guiding. That is to say, I shall tell you, dear reader, about myself. My name is Aldalus Fendan, and I have been an executioner for the great kingdom of Ralchan for near three decades. Should one be curious of such things, I shall describe my personage in some detail. It may help in the examples I am to give in the coming pages. I am a bull, currently approaching my 50th year of age. I stand at just over two meters in height, my short fur the colour of rust, my short hair black. Though I dare say some grey has crept into my locks in the last few years. I do not keep a beard, for the hood of the executioner becomes uncomfortable with such, though mine has been modified to accommodate for the thick horns that stretch from my brow. As most of my kind, and my profession, I am built with much muscle, made to both impress and intimidate, and for the strength to keep any unruly condemned in place until their appointed meeting with their gods. My manhood, when at full arousal, is 33 centimeters in length, and 6 in girth. This may seem an unnecessary brag, but I assure you, tis most necessary for the setting of the scenes I shall describe hence.\n\nNow, with the most humble of braggartry from myself concluded, we should move on to the matter at hand. The one you have opened the pages of this guide to read. Those that are to meet their fate, whether by axe, rope, sword, bow, or any other method, are many. As such, there are an equal numbers of ways these unfortunate souls meet their appointed fate. However, over my years as executioner, I have noticed that there are many patterns. Species, profession, religion, even age are all factors. And, of course, the reason for their execution in the first place. All these will lead to a reaction that can be somewhat predicted. There will always be outliers, as every man or woman that comes upon our stage is their own person. But the vast majority fall within one of a few categories.\n\nI shall explain these with examples from my career. And this, unfortunately, requires a bit of explanation for those unfamiliar with Ralchan's ways. This may also seem to be little more boasting on my part if, one would forgive this bull for his ego. Executions within Ralchan are a spectacle, made to be an event for the masses. They are performed upon a wooden stage, typically set up near the center of the town or city, though it is also common for a stage to be placed on the outskirts, allowing a larger crowd to gather. The condemned are marched through the town or city, stripped of all possessions and clothing, for all the people to see them. Though the townsfolk can laugh, mock, shout, or pray for them, none but guards are the executioner themselves are allowed to touch the condemned on this short trip.\n\nOnce upon the stage, the condemned are stood before the crowd. A list of crimes they have been convicted of, if any, are read aloud, along with the reason for their execution. The method is usually obvious, with a noose or axe or guard with bows already lined up. The most common is the falling blade, a contraption made many centuries ago. A heavy, sharpened plate of steel is suspended above, while the condemned is locked into a stockade below. When a lever is released, or in some cases a rope simply let go, the plate of metal falls and strikes the neck of the condemned, conveniently placed under. The weight and sharpness of the blade promises a swift separation of head from shoulders. The blade continues past, so the blood may flow freely from the neck. The head falls to a basket container to catch it, so it does not roll from the stage.\n\nThis may seem all very mundane to most executioners, but this is where Ralchan differs. For before the execution itself, while the victim is bound or locked, they are to be used publicly. This is where my earlier boasting comes into this. For as the executioner, it is my duty to be the one to use these condemned. By Ralchan tradition, the act of sex in this way is a final punishment, a curse upon the condemned, to taint their body and soul before they meet their gods. For them to be raped in public in this way is to prove to even the gods they have no rights as a citizen or a person. When the exact moment of death is brought upon the unfortunate is up to the executioner. It may be during this rape, or after they have spilled their seed. In any event, the condemned will die feeling this final shame.\n\nAnd this, dear reader, is where we come to the variations in response. For not all find such an act to be shameful. Some find it to be the worst torture, wishing the death faster. And it is in this I shall give examples. Now, as an executioner, one must put aside notions of morality, or normality. Many of those you must slay are male, indeed the majority are. And this final act must be performed upon them as it would any woman. However, as this is only the first volume, I shall ease you in. As such, I shall only give examples of the female variety, as I know that is the preferred partner for most. I will give examples of males in the future, for their reactions are different, and knowing them is important.\n\nI will give the examples from the most common to the least. I have labeled this sorts of reactions as: The Timid, The Stoic, The Pious, and The Willing. We shall start with...\n\n[center]*     *     *[/center]\n[center][u]The Timid[/u][/center]\n\nHer name was Timala, age 19. Aldalus could tell before the brown mouse even got to the stage she would be the kind to beg for mercy. Tears streamed down her face as she was marched through the streets, her eyes cast down at the road. She flinched at the yelling voices around her, and seemed to try and hide her thin, naked body from the eyes staring at her. Soon, she was marched up the steps and onto the wooden platform. As soon as she saw the device, she started to plead. \"No! No please!\"\n\nHe shook his head, putting a hand on her back as she tried to step away. \"You have no choice.\" He shoved her forward, and she nearly stumbled over, though a pair of guards caught her. \"Lock her in.\" The two men nodded, having little difficulty bringing the struggling young woman over to the stockade and holding her down until it was locked. She was left on her knees, her head and wrists trapped within the wood. His eyes cast down to look at her rear. She was quite small, and might easily break with the use. It had happened before. But she would live through it long enough to die by the blade looming above her head.\n\nAldalus stood at attention as a crow in an ornate robe walked up the steps and around him, moving to the edge of the stage with purpose. Lorkis was the chaplain for the king, and presided over these executions. He opened a book and began to read aloud. As he spoke, the noise from the crowd died down to hear. \"Timala, you have been accused and found guilty of the following crimes: no less than twenty eight acts of theft, many of these thefts from the noble house of Arenet while employed as a servant to the Lady Matrice Arenet. For these crimes against a noble house, you have been sentenced to death by the Ralchan tradition!\" He nodded to the bull and stepped out of the way. \"You may begin.\"\n\nAldalus had barely taken a step forward when the woman started to plead and wail even more. \"Please don't! I just wanted to eat!\"\n\nHe grunted as he put his hand on her backside. \"Soon, you will not need to worry for food any longer.\" He wasn't sure she even heard him over her own pleas and the crowd's renewed noise. They did so enjoy these shows. He was already at full mast, just as naked as the woman before him. He wore only a cloth draped over his crotch, which was pushed aside to let his cock stand proud. He touched the tip to her pussy, and she started to wail even more, her hips trying to squirm away. He gripped her tail with his other hand to keep her still.\n\nWith one thrust, he jammed several centimeters of his rod into her. As he suspected, he was far too large for the rodent to take, his thick cock spreading her painfully wide. Her pleas became screams as he pushed deeper. She would receive no pleasure from him today, nor would he show her any mercy. He grunted as he thrust himself deeper, her too-small pussy tearing around him, making her kick and struggle all the more in her bindings. He enjoyed the struggle, as did the crowd. It was not long before he found himself hitting the back of her tunnel, not even half of his length within her.\n\nFor now, he just used this small portion, thrusting his hips in slow, hard motions. The rodent screamed and wailed all the more as he took his time with her torment. He liked to give the crowd a show, and these small rodents were a rarity to enjoy. His large hands gripped at her hips, lifting them up so he could thrust into her harder still. She screamed her agony as he rammed the head of his cock against her cervix, striking her like a punch from within each time. Her voice became hoarse from her screams, but she could not keep the energy up for long. That was his signal.\n\nWith several hard thrusts, he rammed himself deep, and then ripped through the barrier, tearing his way into her womb. Her screams grew even louder than before as he sank that much deeper into her. The mouse's belly bulged visibly as he started to pound into her womb itself, painfully stretching it as he punched her gut from the inside. Blood leaked down her thighs and coated his shaft from the grievous wounds he gave her. But too soon, even the renewed screaming started to fade as the pain became too much for her.\n\nHe let go of her hip, only so he could grab hold of a small lever on the device she was locked into. He pulled the lever, then gripped at her hip again quickly. The whole device rattled as the blade was released, falling with speed from the weight. Her screams were ended by a thud and a wet crack as the metal slammed down and through her neck in an instant. Her head fell to the basket waiting for it, a look of horror on her face as she stared up at her own body from below. Then the blood sprayed and splashed out, much of it upon the head below, but more splashing onto the stage. It flailed and twitched and struggled more than she had in life. He gripped her hips and thrust deep over and over, moaning to himself as her ruined tunnel and even her womb quivered and gripped him almost painfully tight.\n\nHe stopped holding anything back, his pleasure building quickly. With a loud cry of his own, he released, blasting his seed deep inside of her. A final gift she would never feel. He thrust several times as his heavy balls emptied themselves into her, making her already bulged belly swell even more visibly from the filling. He ripped himself free, letting his bloodied cum flow free of her gaped pussy. Stroking himself, his cock spat several more ropes onto her back as he let her shivering corpse slump to the stage, held up only by the wrists still on the stockade. The crowd was overjoyed for the display.\n\nHe unlocked the stockade, letting her body finally slump to the bloody floor, giving a few final twitches. The squirting form her neck had slowed to a leak as her heart finally failed her. He reached into the basket, lifting her bloody head by her short, auburn hair, and held it high. The crowd cheered for the display, as they always did. The same crowd that demanded blood in the fighting pit. Several men had their own cocks out, rubbing them furiously to the display. A few women, too, were working themselves. He could not judge them harshly, for he did enjoy his work immensely.\n\nHe would help with carrying Timala's body away from the stage. Some condemned were sold in an auction, others left on display, but it was not the fate of this thief. Her body was to be returned to Lady Arenet. What happened to it from there was not his concern. He just hoped she wasn't planning to give the mouse to someone as a meat sleeve to fuck. He had thoroughly ruined her cunt, as he did with most that were forced onto that particular stage with him.\n\n[center]*     *     *[/center]\n\nCrying, wailing, pleading, begging for mercy. Any executioner will tell you, this is by far the most common reaction a condemned will have. Some may play otherwise at first, putting on a brave face, but when they finally see the instrument of their oncoming death, feel it there, see their mortality right before them, that resolve breaks. It can be hard, at first, putting these people to death. Some claim innocence, and some may not even be lying. But, as an executioner, it is not our job to determine this. By the time they are in our care, their fate has already been sealed. We are but tools to deliver their appointed end. We must become hardened against the tears and cries and pleas.\n\nHowever, some never have their resolve break. From the start of their last trip, to the moment the light leaves their eyes, they hold fast and proud to whatever morality or righteousness they keep. As if refusing to show their fear grants them some sort of victory. In the end, they die the same as any other. Soldiers and the devout to some god or cult are the most common to exhibit this behavior, but they are not the only ones. This is the second most common reaction. which I call...\n\n[center]*     *     *[/center]\n[center][u]The Stoic[/u][/center]\n\nThe tigress had walked down the streets with her head held high and her eyes straight forward. She showed no signs of shame at having her body on display for all to see. He didn't blame her, it was quite the body to show off. Powerfully muscular, yet still feminine. Not quite as tall as Aldalus, yet a head taller than most women. The muscles were battle hardened, and yet they seemed to make her bust stand out all the more. He was especially impressed with her powerful thighs, muscles rippling with every step. She had many scars across her body, but the only wounds on her back were recent, since her imprisonment. She was a soldier through and through.\n\nIt was probably a good thing she put up no struggle once she got to the top of the stairs. It would have taken more than just two men to get her locked in place on her knees if she had. Aldalus stood behind her, waiting for his signal to start the show, as Lorkis stepped around to address the crowd. \"Yona, you stand accused and convicted of treason. Your crime is allowing prisoners, agents that would see the fall of our kingdom, escape your custody. For this, you have been stripped of your rank of captain, and you are stripped of your honor.\" The crowd started shouting already, shouting insults and demands for the traitor to die already. She said nothing to defend herself, only waited. \"Your sentence is to have what dignity you have left stripped away and your head removed! Die in disgrace before the people you betrayed!\"\n\nThe crow nodded to Aldalus and stepped out of the way. The people's bloodlust for a traitor's death was always at the extreme, but he heard the cries to rape her, and even many who offered to do it for him. As if he would ever give such a task to another. He pushed his loincloth away to let his impressive shaft stand free. She did not struggle or squirm as he rested his hand against her backside, his other lifting her tail out of the way, pressing his tip against her slit. The first sound he heard her make was a grunt as he shoved the first few centimeters into her. Even a woman as powerful as she could not take him comfortably. Yet she did not scream in pain as he spread her wider with his hard thrusts.\n\nHe was impressed how much she was able to take. It was just past half length when he finally struck her cervix. She again grunted, her inner walls clenching a little from the sudden hit so deep inside, but it was not from pleasure. Not hers at least, but he enjoyed getting so much into her. His thrusts started faster than normal, ramming deep and hard. He could not see her face, but she only let out slight grunts of discomfort, and imagined she barely winced. A valiant effort, despite the pain he knew she was in. He gripped at her hips hard, his own ramming forward, making her body rock in the stockade. Her ample breasts swung under her.\n\nHe wondered just how much she could keep her composure. He started to ram himself into her harder, and had to work at his goal. But her flesh could only withstand so much punishment, and after minutes of him slamming forward, he finally tore through the barrier and sank deeper into her womb. She sucked in a breath through clenched teeth, straining to withhold any noise, even a groan of pain, yet must be in agony by now. He was still not fully within, even as he struck deep enough for her well toned belly to bulge outwards whenever he thrust forward.\n\nThe crowd was calling for her blood, but he was not done testing her resolve yet. He thrust ever harder, stretching her womb to its limits. Soon, even this could not hold back any longer. A wet warmth washed over his shaft as he overstretched the inner walls and finally ruptured through, pushing up into her very innards. She again made only a token whine of pain. Her tail was all that gave her away, thrashing about like a snake on fire. Blood drooled down her legs as he slapped his hips against hers, finally getting every last bit of his murderous manhood into her. He felt her innards pulsing around him as he shoved them out of the way.\n\nHis groans were louder than any of hers as his cock jerked and jumped. With a louder cry, he shoved forward and released himself, blasting his seed into her guts, flooding them and coating them with the hot, sticky cum. He still had the wherewithal to lean forward and throw the lever. The device rattled and rumbled as the blade fell. A moment later, it landed with the thud, slicing cleanly through her neck. Her head fell into the waiting basket. Only once her mind was removed did her body finally start to react, trembling and squirming, her muscles rippling as spasms rocked through them. Blood poured from the severed neck, splashing onto the floor, all while she clenched harder around him, milking him of his heavy blasts of cum. The crowd loved the show, though many wishing she got a more painful death, not knowing how painful it had actually been.\n\nBut they would soon. He ripped himself out of her, letting her body sink to the ground and tremble, leaking from both ends. He had the guards release her from the stockade, only to lift her up to display her to the crowd. He took a knife presented to him, quickly jamming it into her belly and ripping it down all the way to her cunt. Her intestines to spill free, coated in his cum, showing all those gathered how deeply had had been using her. As the crowd cheered for the traitor's death, he lifted her higher, moving her to a wooden spike. He placed the tip against her still drooling sex, then rammed her body down, jamming the spike deep, until it pierced through her neck. Her head was then lifted, shown off, only to be rammed onto the spike with the rest of her body. This grim display would be left on the road into town. A reminder of the fate of traitors.\n\nFinally, in death, her expression was more than stone-faced determination. It was the slack, blank, half-lidded expression of the head. He had to admit, she looked prettier this way.\n\n[center]*     *     *[/center]\n\nDetermined to the last, these stoic types will keep their brave face. But once the blade falls or pierces their heart, or a noose tightens around their neck, that determination often melts away. When someone's head is removed, and they are halfway into the grave, they realize the futility of their final 'act of defiance.' They may think themselves brave, but they simply mask their own fear. The ones that truly are brave are those that die with the words of a god upon their lips. The ones I call The Pious. However, these are also the least interesting. They walk, climb, wait, endure the raping, all while praying or chanting words of their god. Even as the blade falls and their heads fall away, their last words are a prayer. They are fewer than the stoic, and even less interesting.\n\nHowever, there is one group, the fourth in my list. These are by far the most rare condemned an executioner is likely to come across. Those that openly enjoy their death. Some are happy for a release from the torture they endure in prison. But those are not the kind I am talking about. I am talking about those that look forward to their deaths, that are aroused by it. These exceedingly rare people are, with no exaggeration on my part, the most interesting executions one will ever have the privilege of conducting. They will beg for more, plead for their end, and some even get off seeing the object that will remove them from life. They are all very much...\n\n[center]*     *     *[/center]\n[center][u]The Willing[/u][/center]\n\nAldalus could tell there was something different about the young rabbit. In her early 20's, white fur with splotches covered the athletic body, which trembled as she was led through the streets. But it wasn't fear that caused her to quake. She looked around with a nervous energy as the town shouted their insults, but she never flinched at anything harsh said. She offered no resistance of hesitation in her steps, never fighting the guard as they turned her towards the street with the stage readied for her. She walked up the steps and only froze when she saw the device, her eyes cast upwards to look at the blade hanging above. Another shudder ran through her, making her long ears and perky breasts wiggle. Yet her little tail, turned upward, twitched with an excitement. When he pressed his hand against her back to push her forward, she resumed her movement. Soon, she was locked into the stockade on her knees. Yet she raised her backside to him without prompting, presenting herself. Her pussy was drooling with arousal, the lips slightly parted to reveal the pink inner tunnel. She wanted this.\n\nLorkis moved to his position and spoke to the crowd. \"Venna, you stand accused and convicted of murder! Seven counts in total, including your own parents and brother! You have openly confessed to these crimes, but that will not save you! You are sentenced to death by the Ralchan tradition!\" The rabbit made a soft gasp, her tail twitching even more. \"You shall be stripped of what little dignity you had! May the gods punish your wickedness as we send your black soul to them!\" Aldalus couldn't help but note a bit of irony in the statement. He had killed countless many in his time on this stage, while giving them a final shame and agony, and yet he was considered honorable.\n\nWith a nod from the crow, Aldalus stepped forward, pushing his loincloth to the side to let his cock free for all to see. When he touched the backside of the woman, she gasped, letting out a soft moan. He heard her speak. \"Make it hurt, sir!\" She almost begged him, her voice dripping with lust.\n\nHe smirked, moving to rest his shaft along her back, showing how deep it would go if he thrust it all inside. He spoke for only her to hear. \"That was never in question.\" A shudder ran through her again, the scent of her arousal filling the air around her. He positioned himself at her damp entrance, rubbing the tip against her lips. It was a rare treat to enter one that wasn't dry. He pushed forward, and she cried out, only partially in pain, as he spread her lips. Willing as she was, he was still too big for her, and he stretched her painfully wide. She welcomed the pain, moaning in shameless lust as he plunged his cock into her willing tunnel. He felt her clenching around him, but not the kind of clenching to deny him entry, but pulling him in, wanting evermore, even as he struck the barrier at the end of the tunnel.\n\nHe started with slow, hard thrusts, but her moaning and squeezing saw him pick up his pace faster. She did nothing to hide her desire, the crowd laughing and mocking her openly debaucherous display. Aldalus did not mind for a moment. He only rammed himself harder into her, making her moan and cry out more, even as he spread her pussy past its limits. Gripping her hips, she panted and gasped as he started to slam against the back of her pussy. \"Break me! Break me while everyone watches!\" She half-demanded. He was not one to deny such a request.\n\nGripping her harder, he slammed forward, bashing against her cervix over and over. The flesh weakened, and finally gave up, ripping to allow him to push that much deeper, stretching her very womb. She clamped around him, cumming hard from the pain. This rabbit was a true pain slut, for sure. A part of him wondered if she really was a murderer, or if she had willingly taken the fall for someone else so she could live out this fatal fantasy of hers. He would find out some months later that he was correct, though he did not learn the details, nor did he care to. His job was to break and kill the moaning, cumming, and screaming woman squirming on his cock right now.\n\nHe rammed forward, her belly bulging visibly where his cock rammed against the inside. Over and over, he thrust forward, getting nearly all of himself into her. He groaned in pleasure, leaning forward to speak in a low tone so only she could hear. \"Do you wish to die before or after I fill you?\"\n\nShe gasped, and everything clenched around his cock. \"Fill me... cum in me as you kill me! I want that to be the last thing I feel!\"\n\nHe grunted, leaning back up and thrusting harder. \"Then you shall.\" She screamed louder still. To most of the crowd, it would sound like she was in utter agony, but he knew better. She was cumming again, and again once more, unable to hold back her overwhelming lust any longer, knowing she would die at any second. His cock twitched and throbbed inside of her, his own pleasure building. He grit his teeth, not holding himself back anymore, either. The pressure built up more and more, until he could not withstand it. With a loud cry of his own, he started to blast his seed directly into her overly-stretched womb.\n\nFeeling him cumming, and knowing what that meant, set Venna off again. She clenched around him hard, her pussy drooling and almost squirting her arousal. She cried out loud, screaming the most powerful orgasm she had ever felt. Then he pulled the lever, and the whole device shuddered. Her scream was ended by a wet thud as the blade cleanly severed her neck. Her head struck the floor, and her body went wild. He gripped her as it started to flail and spasm even more, her insides clenching almost painfully around him, milking him of every drop he had to give her. Her neck sprayed her blood so hard, several of the spurting arcs splashed clean over the edge of the stage and onto those closest to it in the front of the crowd.\n\nAldalus moaned as he thrust several more times into her body, allowing himself the rare treat of someone enjoying his murderous cock so deep inside of them. Even if it was a body that hadn't quite realized it was dead yet. It came to that conclusion quick enough. Her twitching slowed, her gripping loosened, her splashing blood slowing to a trickle as her wildly beating heart finally gave up and seized. Only once her spasms slowed to a periodic twitch did he finally slide his cock out of her cunt. He let her hips go, her body slumping, held up by wrists only, his cum drooling out of her and onto the stage.\n\nHe walked around and reached down to pick up her head by her long ears. Her face was slack, her eyes blank, and yet she looked like she had been lost in the greatest bliss. It was so rare to find someone, even among the stoic, who looked so happy to be killed. He resisted the urge to give her a kiss, and instead held the head up for the crowd to see. He then rammed the head onto a spike, the tip piercing through the top of her skull beside her right ear. Her head would be put on display as a warning to killers. Her body would be sold or disposed of. He didn't know which it was. He didn't get it, that's all he knew. A shame, he would have liked to have filled her another time. But he'd have plenty of other tight holes to ruin and fill soon enough. He always did.\n\n[center]*     *     *[/center]\n\nThe willing are an unusual bunch. They will commit crimes just so they may be executed. It is common for them to request extreme pain during their final moments, as for them, it only enhances the arousal and pleasure. Some executioners even tell tales of men and women lost in the most powerful of orgasms while being gutted or ripped to pieces or devoured by wild animals.\n\nAnd as I speak of these other ways of execution, that is a fine segue. This will be what the next part of this guild will be about, the many different forms of execution you may find yourself performing as an executioner. We have touched on beheading extensively in this, for it is the most common method in my home of Ralchan, but it is by no means the only. Some nations even have their own unique forms of punishment by death. But I will save those for the next volume.\n\nFor now, dear reader, I think you for enduring my ego and, it is my hope at least, finding my words both entertaining and educational. At the very least, I hope you found them arousing, both mentally and physically. You cannot hear, but I chuckle was I pen those words. I hope you find the next volume as stimulating.\n\n[center]*     *     *[/center]"
}