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Review This Story || Author: Jill Crokett

Execution of the Terrorist Housewives

Part 14

Chapter 12 Execution of the Terrorist Housewives

 

Chapter 14   Execution of the Terrorist Housewives

by Jill Crokett

Execution of the Terrorist Housewives Chapter Fourteen by Jill Crokett
Copyright 2006.
This story is fiction. All names are completely fictitious and any resemblance to a real person is coincidental and no association is intended. This story may not be copied or posted elsewhere. Reading by persons under 18 years of age is prohibited.

 

        "Sara" the warden ordered as the cell door rolled back, "step out into the hallway and assume the posture."  Sara knew she was approaching by the characteristic ‘click-click’ of Anne Bowden’s stylish suede pumps which could be heard from far down the barren, stark white, fluorescent lit hallway. Throughout the facility the sound of her shoes was a tonal euphemism for approaching authority. 

The female warden had arrived outside Sara Stahler’s cell just minutes after leaving young Tracy in the hands of seven loin aching, lust hungry black guards who were, at that very moment Anne thought, already “raping the little bitch in every orifice.”

The beautiful, completely naked 33-year-old mom and housewife obediently stepped out of her cell under the watchful gaze of several white male guards who accompanied the warden. She faced the warden and immediately raised her arms overhead in the assigned posture of submission when ordered to do so. Anne Bowden stepped back and said nothing for an uncomfortable moment, allowing her men to take in an eyeful of the attractive, surrendering female. 

"Sara, it is my duty to inform you that today has been set as your execution date. In less than four hours you and Tracy Howell are to be put to death.”

With those words Sara obediently tried to keep her arms as her face crumpled at the cruel pronouncement. Tears immediately welled in her eyes at the thought of never seeing her son again.

“Diane Howell won’t be put to death till tomorrow.  Her protocol is different than yours and Tracy’s” the warden added without emotion.

"H-H-H-ow?, how will, will it be done ma'am?" Sara asked in a meek, slightly quivering, almost tearful voice. Rumors were running rampant, not only in the prison but across the country, regarding the warden's chosen method of death for the three infamous female terrorists, and Sara knew it, having heard guards whispering.

"I cannot disclose your method of execution at this time, Mrs. Stahler, but a full disclosure will be made to you, in advance, before you are brought into the death chamber.”

Sara knew hauntingly well that the warden’s answer was an evasive one. 

“All I can tell you at this time is that we are here to take you down the hall and prepare you for your execution, which will take place in roughly four hours" Warden Bowden stated in a monotone, business-like manner.  

“But I can tell you that you will definitely not be bull-whipped before being put to death, as is often done in serious cases before a death sentence is carried out.”

Sara, clearly relieved, was given no explanation for this sudden display of leniency.

“I have some other good news for you, too, Mrs. Stahler” Bowden said using a pleasant tone of voice she rarely invoked, “To my surprise, authorities have partially granted your request for a final visit with your family.”

“Partial?” Sara replied with a tone of slight confusion.

“They have allowed you a brief final visit with your parents. I don't mind telling you that they overruled my recommendation against it. Death-house visits always place extra stress on my staff" she added, glancing at her guards.

Sara, her arms still raised submissively overhead, said "You, you mean ma'am, I, I can’t I see my son?  I can’t see my little boy one last time, like, like I requested?"

Warden Bowden only answered Sara with a slightly sympathetic smile, then added with gently raised eyebrows “I’m sure you would agree that the death-house is no place for a young child, but, but you do wish to see your parents, don’t you Sara?”

“Oh, yes, yes ma’am I do” Sara Stahler replied with disappointment in her tone of voice.

More than any other condemned man or woman she had ever dealt with, Sara Stahler had caught Anne’s attention, but not out of sympathy or compassion, but simply out of admiration for Sara’s classic British-princess-like beauty. Every time she looked at her, Anne Bowden ached for the moment when she would hear the lovely Mrs. Stahler scream unintelligible babble, pleading for her life. Anne was inclined to favor witnessing the executions of a spread-eagled, muscular young rapists, savoring the sight of them crying like babies as they were bullwhipped and slowly castrated before a gallery of feminists. Now this creamy-skinned 33-year-old mom had her thinking otherwise.  

“The visit with your parents was conditionally granted, Mrs. Stahler, contingent on your full cooperation with the preparations that will begin in just a few minutes.  Any problems with your prep and I have the authority to cancel the visit.”  

“No ma’am, I’ll, I’ll cooperate fully” Sara interjected.

“Your parents are already here waiting to see you.  I believe they flew into Las Vegas last night, then drove up to the compound earlier this morning. But I must warn you Sara, if you agree to see them, it will be one at a time only, and even then you will be securely shackled and handcuffed for security reasons.  Do you understand?"

Sara, clearly disappointed in knowing that her loved ones’ final memory of her would be of a chained prisoner, nodded affirmatively.

"I’ll send them in one at a time, and you’ll get only ten minutes with each. Just remember, if you’re the least bit uncooperative, the visitation is off. Understand?”

"Yes ma'am, I'll, I'll cooperate fully, I promise" Sara replied.

As if jumping at the promise, Warden Bowden quipped "Sara, these guards are now going to take you to a preparation room down the hall where you'll be given a crew cut, then shaved, your entire body, from the neck down, one last time.  You will also be given an enema and a final shower. If you cooperate, and the guards don't have to restrain you, you’ll get too see your folks in about an hour." 

For a brief moment Sara actually felt happy for the first time in months. She smiled a “thanks” at the female warden as guards led her away down the hall. Within minutes she stood obediently in the middle of the execution preparation room, naked, her arms raised in surrender as female execution technicians swarmed around her.  As part of her cooperation agreement with Anne Bowden, she was not handcuffed or restrained, but stood stoically submissive as she was attended to by the white-uniformed women. 

The technicians proceeded to shave Sara’s entire person from the neck down. Two technicians worked Sara’s legs and underarms, while another pair removed even the fine hairs of her arms, shaving them smooth all the way up to the wrist.  Sara wondered if possibly she was to be electrocuted, as she had heard that hair was removed before electrocutions so that it would not burn.  Even the ultra-fine hairs on her chest, tits, back, and buttocks were carefully shaved smooth without a trace. 

After 20 minutes of standing with her arms held high, Sara was relieved to be moved to a short examination table where she was ordered to lie down on her back and spread her legs high and wide with her bottom slightly off the end of the table. She did so obediently, holding her legs in position, as there were no stirrups. In this position Sara was given an enema and her pussy was carefully shaved yet again, even though it was still bare from the last shaving just days earlier.

Once she was completely smooth from the neck down, Sara was ordered to sit on a small wooden stool that had been placed in the center of the room.  She cringed as she heard the crisp buzz of electric clippers being switched on behind her. "Certainly I'm going to the electric chair" she thought as a technician slowly began to plow the vibrating clippers, back to front, the length of her scalp.

There was no mirror for her to see, but Sara could feel clumps of thick blonde hair falling on her shoulders with each pass of the clippers. She tearfully glanced down as a clump of beautiful, shiny blonde hair plopped onto her lap, artfully covering her bald pussy in faux modesty. The technician did not stop until the beautiful blond had the haircut of a Marine recruit; not shaved, but eerily short for an attractive young woman.  Her eyebrows were left untouched.

With her blond hair boyishly short, Sara was led into another room where she was showered and scrubbed by several female technicians wearing long rubber aprons. Her nipples instantly turned bullet hard as the first blast of cold water hit her. Sara stood still under the cold downpour, her hands obediently folded atop her stubbly new hairstyle as strange hands groped and scrubbed every crack and fold. One of the women ordered her to spread her legs and she obeyed, assuming a stance that opened the crack of her butt cheeks.  Sara felt a surgically gloved hand reach up between her legs from behind and scrub her bare pussy lips with a soapy washcloth. The hand did not stop at making a cursory pass over the external organ, but rather worked and probed for nearly a minute.  Sara wondered if it were the last time another human would touch her there. Once finished with her genitalia, the tech re-soaped the cloth and continued scrubbing the crack of her ass as another rubber-apron clad woman impersonally soaped and scrubbed Sara’s firm B-cup tits. 

Once every inch of Sara's skin was scrubbed clean, one of the technicians picked up a garden hose and rinsed her off thoroughly from head to toe with cool water. Despite the blast of the water Sara did not move, stoically holding her stance in the hope of seeing her parents again. Throughout the long, humiliating shower Sara’s only thought was that, if she obeyed, very soon she would see them, refusing to consider that it would be their last meeting.

Once the technicians had towel dried Sara, several male guards handcuffed her hands behind her back and attached walking shackles to her ankles.  She was quickly shuffled down the hall and escorted into a small empty, windowless room.  The only objects in the room were two steel posts which where firmly bolted in place, about four feet apart from one another, at the center of the room.  The posts ran floor-to-ceiling.  Steel attachment rings were securely in place near the top and bottom of each post.  The guards, without speaking, quickly positioned Sara spread eagled in an X fashion an attached her to the posts. They then quickly exited the room without saying a word. As the last exiting guard moved to close the steel gray door behind him, he said “Your visitors will be in a moment.”

"No, nnnooooo!" Sara screamed at the top of her lungs, "No, no they can see me like this, please, please pleeease don't… don’t do this… not my mom and dad, please…" Sara hung her head and broke down in a deep sob like never before. Stripped naked, body-shaved, and spread-eagle before her parents; it would be the ultimate humiliation.  She wanted to see them, but not like this.  It was more than she could stand. Sara also realized that, because she was not free to move her arms or legs, there would be no final hug, not even the handshake.

"Please" she screamed, echoing into the silent, empty room, please give me a towel or drape or something, please, before they come in!" Her pleading was answered only by silence. Sara hung her head and cried as she imagined her parent’s final memory of their condemned daughter spread naked before them. She sighed a deep breath at the thought of her own father seeing her this way as he shared a final, awkward goodbye with his adult daughter.  Sara's deepest wish had been to see her little boy and her parents one last time, but now even her partially granted wish was to be dipped in total humiliation.

The two late-middle-aged visitors stood and waited in a short hallway next to a bank of windowless interior doors. Sara's father was a gaunt, shaken man of 60 who had certainly aged a decade in the last 18 months. He wore an off-the-rack blue pinstriped suit which appeared out of place in the heat of the Nevada desert. He walked with the slight shuffle of a broken man.  At 57, Sara's mother was still quite attractive. Her graying hair was flawlessly colored to a near perfect strawberry blond, matching its original color. She was about the same height and build as her daughter, and was in remarkably good physical shape for her age. She wore an elegantly simple, yellow short-sleeved knee-length Summer shift with matching heeled sandals. She would not have been out of place at an outdoor Summer cocktail party.

Warden Anne Bowden, accompanied by Jason and three male guards, approached the couple as they waited in the empty hallway. Without any pleasantries she informed them that they would have to be physically searched before being allowed into the death-house for a final visit with their daughter.  Hearing the words “death-house” and “your daughter” and roll matter-of-factly off of the wardens tongue in the same sentence caused the sad-looking couple to glance down at the floor, dejected. They did not speak, but simply nodded their willingness to cooperate.

Two of the guards led Sara’s father into one doorway while the warden, Jason, and the third guard escorted Sara's mother into another.  Behind the door was a booth, no bigger than a walk-in closet.  As the four adults momentarily stood still in the uncomfortably small space, Jason watched as Anne Bowden and the woman silently held eye contact. His heart raced as he stood so close to the late middle-aged woman he could almost feel her breath. Without a word the warden walked around Sara’s mother and reached up to grasp the collar of her dress with her fingertips. Jason stared and watched the woman’s face turn anxious as she felt the warden’s fingers touch the back of her collar.

"I'm sorry ma'am” Anne Bowden whispered, “it’s standard procedure for all visitors of the condemned.  We’re going to do a full search.  If you refuse, the visit with your daughter will be canceled."

Jason's heart pounded as he watched the older woman’s face crumple. Tears welled in her eyes but she remained stoically silent.  At that moment and Jason could see a resemblance of Sara in her face. He watched as the warden, standing behind her, used both hands to carefully unhook the tiny clasp on the woman's collar.  Then using one hand to hold the collar, she squeezed the tiny zipper clasp and slowly drew it down to the woman's buttocks. The zipping sound seemed to shatter the uncomfortable silence of the tiny booth.  At the sound of the zipper, Jason felt his cock swell with blood. It was soon so hard he was afraid Warden Bowden would notice. He hoped it wouldn’t drip against his underwear, causing a visible wet spot. Jason felt his face blush with embarrassment in front of the two mature women.  Through all the tortures and punishments he had witnessed during his internship that year, he had never felt as sexually excited as he did at that moment. He had a hard-on that wouldn’t quit.

With the dress unzipped to the woman’s butt cheeks, Warden Bowden spread it so that it would fall off her shoulders. It hung up on her hips as it fell to the floor, exposing a modestly-cut, b-cup white bra. Anne bent down and gently tugged the dress over her hips.  With the second tug it plopped to the floor, exposing the grandmother’s full-cut white panties and high, flesh colored hose.

 “Jason” Warden Bowden requested in an almost whispering, uncharacteristically feminine voice, “Would you frisk her please.”  She phrased it as an order, not a request. Upon hearing those words, Jason felt as if his cock would explode in the dead silence in the small strip-search booth. The young college intern nervously reached forward and lightly cupped his hand over the crotch of the woman’s panties and, very gently, slowly ran his finger tips over the crotch of her underpants. Jason could feel her curly pubes and puffy pussy lips through the thin cloth. He took a long, slow, deep breath as he stared in the woman’s eyes. His tactile sense helped him visualize her feminine lips and the soft, fine curls of her pubic mound. At that moment Jason heard the crisp snap of a bra strap is Warden Bowden, still standing close behind the woman, unhooked her bra. Tears welled in the 57-year-old eyes when the warden slipped the bra straps off her shoulders, baring small but remarkably firm tits with hard, erect nipples and swollen, bumpy areolas.  

Jason slowly moved his hands upward and felt the woman's breasts. He continued to stare in her eyes as he gently squeezed the tits of this woman who was about the same age, or slightly older, than his own mother. His fingertips lightly twisted the erect of her nipples through the bra. Sara's mother reached to cover her breasts.  At the moment she did the warden ordered her to raise her hands above her head.  She reluctantly complied.  As she did, and Bowden looked around her shoulder and Jason and ordered "The panties, Jason."

The young intern thought his cock would explode at hearing the words.  He wondered how far the search of this Non-inmate, this visitor, would go.  He knew that Warden Bowden was the supreme authority inside the walls of the facility, and her word was law.

Jason’s young hands then slid down and moved around the back of the woman's panties, sliding up over the cheeks. He slid his fingertips under the elastic waistband and then, crouching low, almost kneeling, slowly pull the woman's panties off her butt cheeks, then spread the waistband to clear her hips before taking them to her ankles.  Warden Bowden immediately ordered the woman to step out of them.  She complied one leg at a time, though now her tears were a soft, audible cry. As Jason pulled them away, he glanced up to see a thinning, grayish-red pubic bush. It was neatly trimmed except for the lips themselves, which were shaved clean from the top of the crack downward.  Jason was so close he could kiss it.   

Jason stood up and stepped back, as much as he could in the small booth anyway, as Warden Bowden pulled a pair of medical examining gloves on with a sharp snap which caused the woman to jump slightly at the sound. Her arms were still overhead as Jason gazed and wondered what was next. She was exactly twice his age, he thought, yet he wanted so badly to frisk her again, to feel her buttocks once more as he stared into her frightened eyes.

Without any emotion in her voice Warden Bowden ordered the woman to stand with her legs apart, slightly bent her knees, and bend over and touch the floor.  At the command the woman began to sob aloud.  

"It is this really necessary, Warden, especially in front of these young men?" she pleaded in a timid, tearful voice.

“I need them here for my own security, ma’am, now spread and touch your toes or I’ll have you ejected” Bowden replied as the woman reluctantly assumed a position not unlike the Center in an American football formation. Jason's loins ached to fuck the woman doggy style right then and there.  "I need to do an internal examine on you ma'am, this is an extremely high security situation" Bowden added without a motion. Sara Stahler's mother only cried, but did not resist or protest, when the warden spread her pussy lips and began to examine the inside of her vagina with lightly lubricated gloves.  Performed in front of two males, one who had just groped her tits and pussy, it was the ultimate humiliation. When she was finished the woman was ordered to dress, but not before her clothing itself was searched. The warden's final instructions to her were that her and her husband would see their daughter one at a time, for 10 minutes each, and she would go in first. She would not see her husband again until they both had finished with their visitation.

 

Sara heard small buzzer sound the moment before her mother stepped into the small, empty visitation room.  Sara’s mother broke down and sobbed aloud at the totally humiliating and wrenchingly emotional display of her naked daughter spread eagled and suspended from chains.  Sara felt ashamed too, but more so she felt set up for this by Warden Bowden.  She now knew the visitation was only a final cruel hoax to extract one more dehumanizing emotion from her psyche. 

Her mother, still crying, told Sara that she had been stripped search.  Sara said nothing, but her silence spoke 1000 words of despair. Her mother saw the belt marks on Sara's bare thigh but said nothing.  Seeing her daughter naked and humiliated was one thing, but knowing she had been repeatedly strapped with a belt was more than she could bare. She froze, unable to speak. Minutes passed in silence as Sara’s mother only wish she had never come. She knew it would be bad, but she never could have imagined this nightmare.

------------------------------------------------

Sara heard the buzzer and steel door latch turn. She hoped it was a guard bringing her a towel to cover herself as she had requested. She was shocked when father, alone, entered the visitation room. "No, no daddy, oh God Daddy I’m so sorry" Sara cried.  Her father was equally shocked to find his daughter chained spread-eagle and completely naked, her body shaved and her beautiful, beautiful blonde hair clipped like a Marine.  Sara could only hang her head and sob.  As much as her father loved Sara and sympathized with her, his eyes were magnetically drawn to her bald, spread pussy.  Sara, totally humiliated, could not look him in the eye.  The shock and seeing his beautiful 33-year-old daughter completely naked and totally shaved bare of pubic hair stirred the deepest sexually emotions, emotions he had not felt in years.  Sara's father could not help but stare his daughter’s tiny clit hood perching through from between her bald crack.

After a long silence he said "Sara, we only have a few more minutes, can I kiss you goodbye?"

Sara shook her head yes through her tears. Her father took his hands and gently place them around his daughter's neck and kissed her full on the lips.  As he held her head Sara only shook with sobs at this, surely her last, final kiss in life.  Then, somehow uncontrollably, her sixty-year-old father reached down and gently touched, with two fingers, the spread inner lips of her labia minora.  Sara's eyes bulged but she said nothing, her heart beating heavy with shock.  Her father then kissed her again on the mouth and began to gentle rub her clit.  Her head pulling from the kiss she pleaded "No Daddy, Daddy please don't do this, please."  She could smell alcohol on his breath.


Review This Story || Author: Jill Crokett
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