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The Last Field Trip

Chapter One, Intro and First Exhibit (Non-Con, Watersports, Young)

I was laying in my bed on a Saturday morning when I was roused from my sleep by the sound of my phone ringing. Grunting, I held up one arm to shield my unadjusted eyes from the sun's ray's bleeding through my blinds while my other arm reached for my phone, to determine the identity of whoever it is that has deigned to interrupt my rest. It was Nick, My own Brother, Nick, who had committed this grievous sin of waking at this ungodly hour of 11:42.

“What do you want Nick?” I grumbled upon answering the phone.

“Oops, did I wake you? Must have figured the time zone wrong, thought it was almost noon for you.” He replied, sounding to me more that a little sarcastic.

“Shut up,” I said. “Now you gonna get to the point or should I just hang up?”

“Alright alright” He said. “You know how I was asking you for advice on engagement rings a couple weeks back?”

“Yeah...” I replied cautiously.

“Well last week I proposed to Stacy, and she said yes.”

“Oh my God! Congratulations!”

“Yeah, thanks, anyway, she's been jumping right into brainstorming wedding plans, and she had an idea that I liked.”

“Well? Out with it already.”

“We were thinking that you and her sister would make a good centerpiece for the recital dinner, and were wondering if you were down for that.”

Feeling myself quickly become aroused at the thought I said “Ohh, that does sound hot, but I dunno, any thoughts on how you'd cook us?”

“Nothing's set in stone yet, but one idea we had was to spit roast you both on the same spit, facing each other with your mouths pressed together. Kind of a parody of the whole 'Together til death do you part' thing.”

“Oh man” I said, my free hand having wandered south and was now rubbing my pussy over my panties. “That sounds really hot, you've convinced me, I'll do it.”

“Great! I'll tell Stacy. Thanks for doing this she'll love it.”

“Glad I can be of help to you both on your special day, congratulations again.”

“Thanks, well I should get back to it, you should probably get out of bed and enjoy your Saturday, you're not gonna get too many more of those,” He joked.

“Idiot,” I said halfheartedly, before ending the call.

Putting my phone down I looked at my reflection in the full length mirror mounted on the wall across from my bed. My long brown hair was a mess and I had been sleeping in just my panties so my full breasts were on display. My face was flushed and my nipples hard from the conversation I had just had. Cupping my breast with one hand I imagined my brother and his new wife cutting into it together as I lay there, dead and thoroughly cooked. My other hand wandered down into my panties and I imagined the spit going into it, first just like any girthy dildo, but then going even further, tearing into me, irreversibly damaging me, before emerging from my mouth, then quickly being joined by Stacy's hot sister, a petite blond girl of 16. Together we're slowly rotated over an open fire as the wedding guests chat and dance. I came. Breathing heavy I pulled my hand from my panties and thought about what I should do today. Belatedly I thought about the 7th grade class I'm the homeroom teacher for.

“I should probably send the principal an email, I hope it's not to hard to find a new teacher in the middle of the year” I thought to myself.

Quickly I drafted an email detailing the need to seek a replacement teacher. Upon sending the email I looked up, and seeing myself in the mirror again I soon became overpowered by arousal once more. Fantasizing about my own impending death I masturbated myself to orgasm twice more before finally getting out of bed and starting my day.

The following Monday, before class, I was sitting at my desk drinking my coffee when I received an email from the principal asking me to come in whenever I had time, to discuss my “early retirement”.

I still had some time before class, so I went to his office and stuck my head through the open door.

“Ahh, come in Ms. Brooks, sit,” the principal said.

“You needed to speak with me?” I said once seated.

“Yes, Unfortunately it is the case that we simply cannot find a replacement for you at this time.”

“What do you mean you can't find anyone?”

“It's just too late in the school year, and we're already dealing with a shortage of capable staff in our district. I'm afraid we can't just have a class without a teacher.”

“Excuse me sir, I wasn't asking for your permission, I was just doing you a courtesy in telling you the situation. If you refuse to pay my remaining salary that's fine, it wont matter to me soon anyway,” I replied angrily.

“Please calm down Ms. Brooks, you misunderstand me, you can, of course, do whatever it is you feel you need to do here, I'm just saying we can't have a class without a teacher.”

“What do you mean? Aren't you contradicting yourself?” I say confused.

“I mean that if there was no class, we would have no need to keep you on as staff.”

“You mean disperse the students between other classes?” I ask.

“A few, just the especially gifted, but no we don't have the extra space for all of them. What I'm getting at is that the school, and by extension you, have total autonomy of the students during school hours. If you went on a field trip, say to the Historical Museum of Life and Death, and none of your students returned, that would absolve you of any responsibility.”

“You want me to kill all of my students?” I asked, feeling my thighs dampen at the thought.

“Not all of them, no, and I wouldn't use such harsh language, but effectively yes, if you want to leave your teaching position I need you to get rid of your class.”

“If that’s what I need to do, I can do it,” I said, squirming in my seat.

“Great” the principal said. “You're actually really doing me a favor here. As you've probably already heard we've been having some budget problems, and if we had to cut staff wages it would become even harder to attract new staff. I'll send you a list of those who are to be relocate and a stack of forms to send home with the kids.”

As I had heard it, it was the principal's own egregious salary, and not the rest of the staff's, that was at risk of being reduced, but I wasn't going to argue.

“Thank you,” I said to the principal before excusing myself.

The following morning I arrived at school to find a small stack of paper on my desk and a new email on my computer.

Reading over the email and attached list I thought it a little strange. The list was all boys, in fact every boy in my class, and many of them I wouldn't consider especially “gifted” as the principal had described them. Well enough of that, I thought, before moving on, preparing for my class to arrive.

As I watched my class file in, admiring the skimpy attire many opt for, I noticed that already there were no boys. After the final bell rang one of my students, a cute 13 year old girl name Cindy, a blond with short pigtails, wearing low-cut unbuttoned short shorts that afforded a glimpse of her pink panties, knee high socks, and a small form-fitting tube top that showed off her pierced nipples, stuck her hand up in the air and began waving it about energetically.

“Yes Cindy?” I asked.

“Where are all the boys?” She asked.

“They've been temporarily moved to a different class, the principal seemed to have something he wanted them for, for a few days.”

“Hmmmm,” Cindy intoned, seemingly not entirely convinced.

“Enough on that for now” I said “On Thursday we have an impromptu field trip to a museum planned, seems another school had to pull out last minute.”

“What kind of field trip?” asked Elly, a raven haired 12 year old who sat closer to the back, wearing a short skirt and a necktie that hung between her bare, large for her age, breasts.

“Wouldn't want to spoil the surprise, would I?” I dodged “But don't worry I'm sure everyone will find it exciting. Now Pipe down and lets get to today's lesson.”

Two days later it was the big day. After ushering the girls onto the bus and getting us on our way, I looked over my class. Watching them talk, giggle, throw glances at the well muscled bus driver, and occasionally getting more intimate with each other, I felt myself dampen as I thought about how it was my job to ensure that none of them go home today.

As we arrived near the end of our trip we passed through a gate labeling the beyond facility the “Historical Museum of Life and Death”, next to the gate was a large bronze statue of a nude woman hung from the neck. This sparked much chatter amongst the girls, Cindy, today wearing a similar outfit but with thigh high socks a white almost transparent tube top, shot her hand up in the air.

“Ms. Brook!” Cindy shouted. “Don't people sometimes die on these field trips!”

“Oh yes,” I said. “This museum has many dangerous exhibits, and you'll all be free to volunteer to demonstrate them.”

This got the wide-eyed girls chattering even more.

The bus rolled to a stop at the front of the building. After all my students got off, and I had spoken to the man at the ticket window, I led the students into the museum that they would never leave.

As we entered the lobby the first thing I noticed was the chair in the center of the room, the second was the large openings along the walls to different halls of the museum, and last, was the entrance to the gift shop. The gift shop had some posters advertising things like “Wallets, Bags, Belts! All made from real girl leather kindly donated by visitors!” and “Going Home a few members short? Why not buy a video to remember them buy! All exhibits filmed and sold!”. Once everyone was inside I turned to speak to them.

“Now you may remember earlier when I said you'd all be free to volunteer to demonstrate the exhibits?” I asked.

The girls murmured their ascent while nervously nodding.

“Well that was only half the truth. You all are free to volunteer, but if you don't of your own free will you will be volunteered by me.”

“What do you mean?” Alice, a wide-eyed redhead wearing only black elbow-length gloves, black thigh-high stockings, and a black choker, leaving her pale flat chest and hairless pussy bare, said nervously.

“I mean I've been told the school is having some budget issues, and it was determined that one class would need to be cut. I've been instructed to make sure none of you return to school.”

“You can't do that!” exclaimed a girl named Kathrine.

My eyes met Kathrine's, she was one of the more conservatively dressed girls, wearing a skirt that fell to just above her knee and a blouse that only exposed about an inch of belly skin and fully concealed her medium sized breasts, her hair was in long twin braids and she wore thick rimmed glasses. She has always been kind of a stick-in-the-mud, complaining about rules and always acting like she was above her peers. I would enjoy proving her wrong.

“Oh yes I can, the school has complete autonomy of its charges during school hours and functions.” I said, smiling at her.

“But you forgot to collect our permission slips!” She replied smugly.

“Those slips were purely informational, your parents consent to this trip was assumed as soon as you arrived at school today.”

“You can't do this” she said, quietly, no longer meeting my gaze.

“You know, I think I've decided who to volunteer to show the class whatever that chair over there does,” I said, before signaling at one of the cameras hanging from the lobby ceiling.

Two burly museum attendants appeared from a service door and began walking toward Katherine. Panicking, Kathrine tried to run, but the men quickly had her cornered and grabbed her by the arms.

“No!, Please!, Please let me go!” Kathrine started wailing as she was dragged to chair. As she was screaming and being strapped down I began walking to the chair, signaling to the class to follow, upon nearing the chair I noticed a placard bearing words and a large switch next to it.

“The electric chair was first conceived in 1881 by a dentist named Alfred P. Southwick as a more humane alternative to hanging. The chair kills by passing various cycles of alternating current through an individual's body. The first more powerful jolt of electric current was designed to pass through the head and cause immediate unconsciousness and brain death. The second less powerful jolt was designed to cause fatal damage to the vital organs. Death may also be caused by electrical over-stimulation of the heart.

The chair fell out of favor due to the rise of lethal injection, deemed to be more humane, during the late 1900's. Our chair here is a replica of the chair used to kill Martha M. Place, the first woman to die to the electric chair in 1899, for the murder of her stepdaughter. Our chair has had the voltage reduced and the duration increased from its historical values, in an attempt to provide more of a spectacle to those watching.” I read out loud to the class.

While I read out the sign, the attendants had finished strapping Katherine down to the chair. They had also fastened electrodes to her head and legs and had shoved a rag in her mouth, letting me finish reading the sign with quieter, more muffled screams.

I walked up to Kathrine, flashed her a wide smile full of teeth, and asked “You ready?”. She muffled protests and tried to tug her arms from her bindings, tears staining her face. “I'll take that as a yes” I said pulling the rag from her mouth before closing the almost comically large switch.

She barely had time to begin screaming before the current cut her off. Her body went stiff, straining against the straps. Her eyes went wide and her mouth agape, a quiet scream, almost a whine, just barely escaping it. A few seconds passed like this before the electricity shut off. She let out a painful sounding sob as she went slack in her bonds. After a couple of seconds of respite the electricity resumed, this time her open mouth made no noise. As the current turned off Katherine let out a ragged shriek before going limp.

“Plea–” she started, before being cut off by the current resuming, her glasses being thrown from her face by her spasming body. Watching her sexy taught body I sat on the floor and pulled my skirt up to my hips. Having not worn any panties today I had immediate access to my pussy and began rubbing it in earnest. This continued for a few more cycles at which point the air began to smell like burning meat. After one off cycle where Katherine was barely twitching the electricity began flowing again, her eyes rolled back in her head and visible smoke started to rise from her body. This last cycle lasted several seconds longer than any of the previous, and when it finished and Kathrine's body went limp she didn't move at all. Kathrine's bladder gave out, urine cascading over the sides of the chair.

Standing up, I walked over to the chair and climbed onto it. Standing on the armrests with my legs spread, I began pissing on Kathrine's steaming head while rubbing my clit furiously. Staring into her eyes that didn't stare back as my piss ran over them and down her face and body to join her own on the floor, I came. Almost falling off the chair, I rode out one of the best orgasms of my life.

When I came back to myself I climbed down off the chair and straightened my skirt. I looked at my class and saw a variety of reactions, some girls were cowering, looking at me in fear, others were in shock looking at Kathrine's body, others still were looking at either me or the body with heated faces and arousal in their eyes. A few of these were, or had been, openly masturbating, and two were rubbing each others pussies while staring at my former student's body.

“Well,” I said “Enough standing around, let's keep moving.”

Feedback is appreciated, all my work can also be found on AO3 here:


Holy shit yes this is amazing

please more cons like the teacher herself <3

(this is such an absolutely fantastic opportunity for semi-cons like 'well fuck i dont wanna die but if i have to i want that one' where 'that one' is not the most painless but the most fun-seeming option...)


I absolutely love it! would love a more detailed physical description of the girls, this got me motivated to write a little bit for my own story, so thanks for that as well. can't wait for the next chapter :) <3


New magnificent story from great author begins! Though last one "school festival" not ended... (i really hope to read someday about that auction).


I love stories that take place in free use worlds!


I also love free use stories, particularly non-con free use, which is unfortunately quite rare :/


I want more


^as do I :)
Bump <3


Fantastic, thanks for Posting, great Story, please more


More please!


how you doin Cunt! your tumblr got shut down a while ago, do you know why? And if you have made a new one can you link it please, your work is too good to pass up.


Thank you! I got banned and didn't start up a new one for a while because I felt bad doing it behind the GFs back. But anyways Tina and I are running a new blog now ( It won't have gore or anything like that but Dolcett is hinted at in some posts. It's mostly going to be a submission, rape, patriarchy, lesbian blog now.


Bump for the next chapter! <3




bump and hope there will be more to read soon! So many ways to snuff the girls! I hope there will be a double snuff sometime. One volunteer and one non compliant girl.




I really loved the concept, and I can't wait to see more!


bump for the rest of the class to get it!


Chapter 2, The Hall of Executions Part 1, The Guillotine (Cons, Non-Cons, Watersports, Beheading)

The museum had a number of halls leading off from the lobby, each labeled with a theme hinting at the varieties of death you could expect to find within it. The one that most captured my interest was the “Hall of Executions”. I'd always liked executions. I remember as a little girl watching movies with rapt attention as some side character is beheaded at the behest of the local lord, or is hung after a trial of their peers. I remember feeling a warmth in my abdomen that I didn't yet understand as I watched these scenes. Even beyond your common level of being aroused by death, something about being entirely powerless, having your fate decided by an authoritarian ruler, or by a group of strangers, really lit something within me. And it seemed that it resonated with others in a similar way, the Hall of Executions was perhaps the museums most heavily advertised one, and the teaser exhibit in the lobby was one that fits it's scope. Having decided where first to go, I walked through the arch crowned with the words “Hall of Execution” my students nervously following.

The hall was a long room, with a high ceiling, the two walls lined with exhibits, featuring implements of execution used throughout history.

Stopping a short ways into the room, I turned to survey my class and asked "Any volunteers?"

The class rustled as they looked around at each other, and after several seconds I saw one hand tentatively rise from the herd. The hand slowly moved above the crowd, as the girl it was attached to made her way to stand at the front of the class.

The hand belonged to Lily, a cute girl with wavy blond hair, that today was hanging freely along her upper back. The only thing she was wearing was a light pink gauzy babydoll that did little to conceal her small nipples. It buttoned in a single spot between her modest mounds and flowed down to the top of her hips, leaving a triangle of exposed skin, framing her belly button and drawing the eye to her smooth pussy, just the barest glint of dampness visible on her upper thigh. The one other thing of note was a tattoo of a dotted line that circled her neck, a closer look revealing a small pictogram of a pair of scissors interrupting the line just to the right of her throat.

"So Lily." I asked "How would you like to die?"

"It's a little bit of a long story." she began, her hands clutched nervously behind her, pronouncing her small chest. "But I'll try to keep it as short as I can."

 For as long as I can remember, my mother's head has been mounted above our fireplace, and my daddy has been promising to put mine next to hers one day. His story of collecting her head was my favorite bedtime story for as long as I can remember. He says I was always pestering him to tell it, sometimes demanding he tell it again immediately after he just finished. Whenever he would tell me the story we would sit in his favorite armchair, facing the fireplace, me sitting on his knee. He would wrap his arm around me, resting his hand on my cunny, slipping his hand under my cloths if I was wearing any. As he told the story he would rub me, and when I old enough, finger me, till I came.

 He and my mom loved each other very much, he would say. They met when he was twenty-seven and she was eleven. He was her ballet instructor. He said that she was beautiful in her skin-tight leotard and he couldn't keep his eyes off her. She loved the attention and would move her body anyway she could to show it off when she felt his eyes watching. One day her sister was late picking her up and as my dad waited with her in the studio she made a move on him. Asking him if he thought there was a stain on her leotard, she pulled him into a heavy kiss when he bent over to check. In the end they ended up making love in the studio for hours, her sister never showing. He offered her to stay the night at his place, where they ended up making love for hours more. In the morning he called her house and came to an agreement with her father, she would move in with my dad and her dad would get back what he paid for ballet lessons. Three months later they were married, ten she was pregnant. She had never even begun to bleed so they never thought to check until she started getting sick. We still have videos of one of her recitals, with her heavy belly stretching her leotard as she elegantly moves across the stage. A couple years later, when she was fourteen and I was two, they were both lying in bed after another day of heavy lovemaking.

 My dad says he turned to her, admiring her face with sweat plastered hair sticking to it, and said "I wish you could always be as beautiful as you are now." cupping her face with one hand.

 She looked him in the eyes and said "If you really want me to be, I can, you've seen the neighbor's first wife."

 "You're really okay with that?" he asked. "You're okay with dying?"

 "If it's for you," she said "I'm okay with anything." "Nothing turns me on more than being yours forever, forever being shown off to guests, always as beautiful as I can be." she said smiling and cupping his face in turn. "Plus, I always love it when you're rough with me, thinking about you not restraining yourself, about you going all the way with me, that's easily second in turning me on."

 At this point he says he pinned her down, holding both of her arms stretched above her head with one hand as he kissed her roughly, his other hand between her legs roughly violating her. They made rough love for several hours before he ended up strangling her bare handed as she rode him cowgirl. He continued to make love to her body for a couple hours more, before the rising sun moved him to call the taxidermist. He opted to preserve just her head, parting out her body for meals for special occasions.

 At the end of his story, always right before I was about to cum, he would promise me that one day, when I was my most beautiful, I would earn a spot above the mantle next to mom.

 For many years I was confident in the knowledge that one day my head would be up there hanging next to mom. But one day in elementary school, my world was shaken. We were learning about chemistry, and the teacher decided to use one troublemaker of a girl who had been held back two years as an aid for her demonstration. She was stripped and had dynamite shoved in her mouth, pussy, and ass, which was then set off. That day I learned not only that people other than my daddy could kill me, but also that my head wouldn't necessarily survive the experience. When I got home that day I burst into my dad's office crying, burying my head in his lap as I wailed out my frustration. Once I had calmed down enough for him to get the story out of me, he told me he had an idea. An idea that he said could maybe motivate my killer in a certain direction should it end up being someone else other then him. That day he took me to get my neck tattoo, hoping that the power of suggestion could possibly one day save my head. In the years since the idea of losing my head has become central in my self pleasures, I would always run one hand along my tattoo, imagining all the ways my neck could be severed, as the other hand did it work between my thighs. I hope that losing my head cleanly here will end up with my head preserved and in the gift shop, maybe my daddy will even have the chance to buy it. Even if I never did get as beautiful as he wanted, lately he's been fucking me more and more often, and more often saying how much like my mother I look, so I think I was getting close. But regardless of what does happen to my head, if I have to die today I really want my head to roll.

"Well, I'm convinced." I said, feeling the arousal drip down my leg. "Lets get the pretty little head off, I think I see a guillotine over there."

As we approached the guillotine, I noticed another plaque mounted next to it, moving close enough to see it, I read aloud:

 "During the French Revolution, there was seen a need for a new method of execution. Previously nobility would be beheaded by a sword or axe, which often took two or more strikes, and commoners were hanged, which could often take several minutes. The National Assembly, an assembly formed by representatives of the common people, decided that a new method of execution, consistent with the ideas that capital punishment was to end life and not cause pain, and that it should be used on all condemned regardless of class, needed to be devised. The result was the Guillotine, taking inspiration from previous beheading machines, this new one was different in that it used a lunette to immobilize the condemned, and it used an angled blade to remove the head.

 Our guillotine is a replica of the one that stood in the Place de la Revolution, where thousands were beheaded during the Reign of Terror of the French Revolution. Our guillotine has had a few modifications made to it to improve the spectacle. It has the choice of two blades, a normal sharp blade that will behead with one shot guaranteed, and a dull one, that often takes two or more shots to cut through a neck. It also has two methods of activating, the first a standard lever to drop the blade, and the second a sensor that can be attached to either victim or operator that will drop the blade upon the detection of an orgasm."

Finishing, I turned to Lily and asked "So you mentioned wanting it to be as clean as possible, so I'm thinking the sharp blade, but I can also see how hot and bothered your story got you, how does losing your head the second you begin to cum sound?"

"Oh!, That sounds super hot Ms. Brooks!" Lily replied.

Turned on and inspired by her passion, I closed the distance between us pulled her into a tight embrace, locking lips with her. She quickly overcame her initial shock and we wrestled our tongues passionately for a few seconds. Breaking away, feeling a dampness on my thigh wedged between her legs, I said: "Well let's get you set up already."

Hanging on the side of the guillotine was a length of rope and a diagram showing how to use it to bind the wrists. With a few lusty grunts from Lily I managed to firmly immobile her hands behind her back. After raising the lunette I pushed her into a kneeling position and shut it around her neck locking her in. Arming the remote sensor, I stuck it to Lily's skin, just to the right of her mons pubis, the sensor blinking a slow red. Standing up I stepped back a few paces to admire my handiwork. My student was kneeling with her head locked into the lunette of an armed guillotine, she was breathing heavy and she was rubbing her thighs together trying to stimulate her very visibly aroused pussy. "Gods she looks delicious." I thought to myself.

Positioning beneath her a nearby shallow backrest that was presumably here for this very purpose, I spread her legs with my hands and laid on my back between her thighs, looking straight up at her dripping treat. Without warning I grabbed her ass with both hands, eliciting a squeak from the other side of the wood. I quickly launched my tongue into her folds, trying to taste as much of her sweet nectar as I could. Listening to her moans I worked her pussy with my mouth, sticking my tongue as deep as I could reach, moving it in and around her folds, moving it up to her clit and gently worrying the little nub with my tongue and teeth. As this continued Lily's breathing got faster and faster, and the blinking red light on her crotch sped up in tune. After a couple minutes of this, I slid one hand to her asshole, teasing her back door with one finger.

"Oooh! Ms. Brook! my asshole!" I hear from the other side of the wooden barrier.

Ignoring her ambiguous response I applied pressure on her closed ring, teasing my finger past her defenses. Earning an increase in moaning I slipped a second finger into her anus. Bringing my other hand around I stuck two fingers into her dripping honeypot, manipulating the walls of her canal I listened to her moaning to discern her most sensitive spots. Her fevered moans and the incessantly blinking light led me to believe we were in the home stretch.

"Oh God! I'm gonna cum! Oh God I gonna die!" Lily screamed. "Ohhhh Goo--"

While manipulating her ass and pussy with both hands, I worked her clit with my mouth. In the midst of her lusty screams I gave her nubbin a less than gentle bite, worrying the nub between my teeth wrestling it with my tongue all the while. The pain and pleasure overwhelmed her, her words transforming into an resounding cry, her hips writhing in my hands. As her words broke down into an animalistic call the light changed from a feverishly blinking red to a solid green. I heard the mechanism release, Lily's cries were suddenly cut off, there was a low twang as the rope caught and I heard a dull thump from the other side of the wood. With nothing holding it up the headless body slumped down on top of me, quivering sluggishly as blood leaked on the floor behind me. Free of any restraint, Lily's urine began to freely flow into my still attached mouth. Once over my immediate surprise I moved my hands back to her ass, holding her pussy firmly to my mouth, as I greedily drank down my deceased student's golden gift.

When my treat was at its end I laid the still body on the floor and stood up. I walked around to the front of the guillotine to look at the contents of the basket. Lily's head was indeed beautiful, her golden hair, edges dyed red and laying strewn in a pool of blood, framed her half-lidded eyes and partially open mouth. Picking up her head, trying to not get too much more blood on me, I peered into her face her hair hanging loosely past my hands. My face still wet from her arousal and piss, I once more pressed my lips to hers. Snaking my tongue past her teeth I once more intertwined my tongue with hers, but this time there was a metallic taste and she didn't wrestle back. Gazing into her unresponsive eyes while passionately licking her tongue with my own piss, cum, and blood stained one, I wondered if I should try to buy her head for myself.

As I was about to replace her head in the basket I noticed her tattoo still on her neck, examining more closely I saw that I had missed the dotted line buy more than half an inch. "I never can seem to cut a straight line on these dang guillotine cutters." I joked quietly to myself, chuckling lightly.

Placing her head gently back in the basket I turned to survey my class. A few of them seemed more shaken than last time, the reality of the situation settling in. A couple that were visibly scared last time seemed to have lost their reservations having joined the enthusiastic crowd that were either openly masturbating or basking in post orgasmic bliss. The couple that had been masturbating each other before were now locked in a passionate sixty-nine on the floor.

Looking at my class it began to occur to me that the crowd looked more a bit more reduced than I had reduced them by when I heard a commotion from the entrance of the hall. Two staff members were dragging three of my handcuffed students, two of which were struggling with their captors, while the last was glumly compliant. The two men approached the class with my students in tow. Upon reaching me the man holding the lone compliant student said "These three wandered off when you must have been otherwise distracted, we caught them trying to escape out of a bathroom window, how do you want to handle them?"

The two struggling students were Elly and Reina, the complacent one Lassie. Lassie wasn't her real name but apparently it's what Elly and Reina have been having her go by for years. This was a trio that was nearly inseparable. My understanding was that Elly and Reina had been best friends and later lovers for longer than either remembered, their parents having been frequent swinging partners back in the day. I had heard that they had set their attention on Lassie in early elementary school, bullying her and treating her as their pet slave. I don't know if Lassie is a true masochist or if shes just submissive enough and lonely enough that she would stick with anyone who gave her attention, good or bad.

Elly and Reina's outfits were twisted mirrors of each other's. Elly was wearing a short red plaid skirt with a green plaid tie hanging between her large bare breasts. Reina wearing a green plaid skirt with a red plaid tie hanging between her more modest breasts. They were both wearing fake shirt collars around their ties and had mismatched socks. Elly was wearing a mid-thigh length blue sock with colorful stars on her left leg and a mid-calf pink sock with colorful cats on her right. Reina was wearing the other half of those sock pairs with the blue one on her right leg and the pink on her left. They wore matching black flats. On Elly's left wrist and Reina's right they each wore a charm bracelet, the bracelets each had one half of a charm of an anatomically correct heart on it. In their hair they seemed to throw out the mirroring convention in favor of showing their own individuality. Elly's medium length black hair was in two high pigtails tied with red ribbon that hung a few inches below her ears. Reina's short hair was free of accouterments, but was died in a blue-green gradient.

Lassie wore only a black leather collar with a bone-shaped tag with "Lassie" engraved on it hanging from it. Her skin had marks on it from bondage ropes as well as various whip marks and light scars from blades. Both her breasts and abdomen had visible bruising and one nipple had a large ring through it. Her back had some intentional, although amateurishly done, scarification, a large heart with "E + R 4 EVAR" carved in it. She had short disheveled brown hair and her face had mascara steaks running down it, Elly and Reina seemed to like to put in on her just to see it run when they abuse her. All three girls had their hands handcuffed behind their backs and had ball gags shoved in their mouths, additionally, Elly and Reina's handcuffs were linked together by a few foot long chain.

"Could you just hold them still for a little bit, I need a minute to decide, and could you get those two to shut up for a minute." I replied to the man.

The man holding Elly and Reina nodded to me, releasing his grip on both their shoulders he turned to Reina and punched her hard in the gut. Reina crumpled on the ground, knees clutched to her chest in a fetal position as she coughed through her gag. Seeing this Elly shut up, an expression of fear on her face as she stood their cooperatively. Satisfied, the man took up position behind her, one hand on her shoulder as she trembled in fear.

I walked up to Lassie. She was still passive, just standing there, her head and shoulders hanging loosely, her eyes downcast. With one hand I grabbed her jaw and gently pulled her face up to meet my eyes. Her cheeks were streaked with the evidence of her tears, and a line of drool leaked from around the ball gag and down onto my hand. Her beautiful tear and mascara streaked face, and her sad brown eyes aroused me fiercely, visions flying through my mind of how I would end this girl's life.

"I'm assuming trying to escape wasn't your idea, you were just following Elly and Reina as usual?" I asked my student.

Lassie nodded weakly, baleful eyes looking at mine.

"You may consider them your masters but during school hours I'm the master for all my students." I said, returning her gaze.

Again she weakly nodded, averting her gaze.

"Right now my job is to make sure all of you are dead by the end of the school day, and your attempts to defy me have pushed you three right to the top of the queue." I said slightly strengthening my grip.

She tightly squeezed her eyes shut, trying to turn her face away from mine.

"But I believe you that you were merely following, if you behave I can try to be a little lenient with your punishment, perhaps even letting you choose the method if I like what you suggest enough."

Lassie opened her eyes back up, looking up at me with what seemed a glimmer of hope.

"I need to know which one suggested running away, was it Reina?" I asked her.

Lassie shook her head.

"So it was Elly?"

She nodded her head.

"I think we should save the harsher punishment for her, disposing of Reina first will let her agonize over her decisions and predicament a little while longer."

Releasing Lassie's jaw I turned back to look at my two attempted truants. Reina seemed to have mostly recovered from her gut punch, now sitting on the floor with her knees pressed to her chest, her forehead pressed into them as she sobbed weakly. This angle afforded me a nice view up her skirt of her sexy bare pussy, in contrast to Lily's hers was dry as a bone. Elly was standing a couple feet away, about as far as the chain linking the two girls wrists could comfortably afford. Her captor was still standing behind her hand on shoulder, his fingers pressing firmly into her flesh. Her eyes were wide and her gaze pointed at me, evidently she had been listening and her trembling had become more severe.

"I was a little curious about the dull blade the guillotine blurb mentioned, could you two gentlemen load the one with the blue hair into it and set it up with the dull blade and orgasm sensor? And could you hand me the sensor when you're done?" The men nodded, dragging the pair of girls toward the guillotine.

Turning back to face Lassie, I reached behind her head and unbuckled the gag. "And you." I said. "I be wearing the sensor so It'll be your job to make me cum. Effectively it'll be you pulling the trigger on your former master. How well you perform here will have a significant effect on how lenient I am with you, so you'd better not try to go easy on her, you understand?" I asked her.

"Yes Mistress." Lassie replied immediately, eyes meeting mine in an unwavering gaze.

Lassie's unprompted honorific sent another flood of arousal through my abdomen, I hadn't cum since I fried Kathrine, and between beheading Lily and imagining 'punishing' my three run-aways, my lust was at unprecedented heights.

Turning back to the guillotine I saw the two men had finished loading Reina into the machine, Elly was standing a couple feet to the side, still linked to the other girl.

One of the men handed me the sensor and the key to the girls' handcuffs and asked. "Can you take it from here?"

"I can, but I feel bad just sending you off after all you've done. If you want how about you two take take a load off and fuck the other girl until we're done killing this one?" I offered.

"We greatly appreciate it, thank you ma'am." The man said, taking the key back from me and going with his partner to collect their prize.

Unzipping my skirt, I shimmied my hips, dropping it to the floor. From the waist down this left me wearing only my professional black pumps, black thigh high lacy stockings, and the lacy black garterbelt they were attached too. Picking up my skirt I looked around for somewhere to hang it. Seeing the immobilized Reina I watched her staring at the basket below her, still containing the head of her former classmate. Looking closer I saw the face of a girl who had given up hope, her eyes were dull and she did not struggle, her tears had run dry, but her mouth was leaking saliva around the gag, dripping down onto Lily's face. Walking up to her I draped my skirt over the lunnette next to her head. With my newly free hand I gently ruffled her hair.

"Cheer up." I said. "You're probably getting off easier than you deserve, even if the blade doesn't sever your head in one go it'll probably sever your spinal cord and you'll expire quickly. Honestly I probably should have given your punishment a little more thought."

Ruffling the doomed girl's hair one last time, I returned to Lassie's side. I attached the sensor just to the side of my mons pubis where it clicked on, beginning to blink a slow red.

"Ready to overthrow your masters?" I asked Lassie, to which she nodded.

Standing just off the side in front of the guillotine, so as to not block my classes view, I put my hand on top of Lassie's head and gently pushed her to her knees. Grabbing fistfuls of hair with both hands I shoved her head into my crotch. Immediately her tongue began its work, its owner apparently having no qualms about what my orgasm would accomplish. She twirled her tongue around my clit, ran it along and through the outer folds, she tried to dig in as deep as possible, stimulating the furthest reaches she could while teasing my clit with the tip of her nose, and all the while maintaining solid eye contact, her beautiful brown eyes giving off a determined air.

Reveling in her ministrations, I broke off eye contact and looked around. I looked at Reina, she was no longer engrossed with Lily's head, but neither was she watching her executioners in their copulation. Following her gaze I saw that she was watching the two men rape her best friend. The men had unlocked the chain from her handcuffs, and had removed her ball gag, but left the cuffs binding her wrists behind her back. They had taken her a short distance in front and off to the side from the guillotine. Elly didn't have much freedom of movement, but from her position she could see Reina just out of the corner of her eye if she tried. At the moment however, she seemed to be in too much pain to spare any attention, the two men were spit-roasting her, the man behind her forcing himself rapidly in and out of her dry, resistant pussy, the man in front of her holding her tightly by the base of her pigtails as he violently raped her throat with a similar disregard to her well-being.

Returning my focus to Reina I saw her looking at me. Between seeing her closest friend brutally raped, and seeing her precious pet and trusted teacher enthusiastically attempting to kill her, it seemed she had regained enough vitality for the tears to resume flowing. I flashed her a broad smile and a wink before returning my attention to the student between my thighs.

Lassie was still eagerly and expertly lapping away at my pussy. Her expression as she looked up at me seemed slightly concerned, as if she were uncertain whether she was doing a good job or not.

"Good girl." I said, relaxing my grip on her hair with one hand so I could pet her head. "You're doing a great job."

"But," I said tightly gripping the hair on the back of her head, "You could be doing even better."

As her eyes grimaced from the mild pain, I pushed her head roughly into my crotch. I began thrusting my hips on her face, grinding my juices into her skin. She seemed to be having some difficultly breathing, but did not fight my grip as I felt my orgasm build up, the red light next to it blinking rapidly.

A loud scream brought my attention back to reality, looking toward the noise I saw the two men had repositioned Elly. Her mouth was now free of the man's cock, but it was now agape as she stared toward the ceiling, heavy tears flowing down her face. She was held up between the two standing men as they violently thrust in and out of her pussy and ass. Presumably, I guessed, her scream must have been the man forcing himself into her ass, dick lubricated only by her spit.

An expert twirl of tongue brought my attention crashing back to Lassie, her pretty eyes locking back on mine as she skillfully manipulated my clit.

"You're almost there." I managed to squeeze out between heavy breaths. "Shouldn't be long till Reina's head rolls."

Lassie's tongue caught me off guard by quickening beyond what I thought she was capable of. Feeling the rise of my looming orgasm, I clutched her head even tighter as I ground my hips on her face. As it hit I faintly heard a gag-stifled scream that was quickly cut off. Lassie's tongue continued its work as I rode out my orgasm, my body filling with small aftershocks.

Collecting myself enough to open my eyes I looked to the guillotine, the blade was lodged about a third of the way into Reina's neck, her eye's were wide and blood was flowing liberally from the wound as her body convulsed.

Between the golden treat I had enjoyed from Lily and the copious amounts of water I had guzzled in anticipation of today's events, I could feel the call of the post-orgasm piss I so enjoy. Returning my gaze to Lassie's I relaxed my grip on my bladder. Her eye's went wide and she briefly tried to pull away. My grasp held her there and she quickly committed to accepting my gift. Her eye's watering as she looked up at me, I returned her gaze with an affectionate smile. My business done, I released my grip on Lassie's hair. She fell back on her ass, coughing and taking deep breaths.

Moving my attention to Elly I saw that her threesome had returned to it's first position, the man who had been in her pussy until now seemed to in the middle of cumming down her throat, her head held all the way down by her pigtails. The second man was sitting on the ground catching his breath behind her, apparently having already finished in her ass. The first man finished, pulling out and dropping Elly unceremoniously on the ground, where she coughed violently a few times before laying there listlessly, cum pooling on the ground from both ends.

Helping Lassie up from the ground, we both walked up to the guillotine. The first thing I noticed was that Reina had stopped moving and the blood flow from her neck had slowed precipitously. The second thing I noticed was half of my skirt laying on the ground next to the basket.

"I must be some kind of idiot." I said under my breath, shaking my head.

Amazed at my own stupidity, wondering how I thought that was a good place to hang my skirt, I began hauling the rope to hoist the blade and finish the job. The rope went taught almost immediately, trying to find the problem I saw the blade was firmly lodged in Reina's neck and the rope would only raise as far as the few inches of clearance her neck had in the lunette. Putting my weight into it I hauled the rope as hard as I could and with a wet suctioney noise the blade pulled free, Reina's body dropping the few inches to rest on the lunnette. I set up the rope to the standard lever and turned to Lassie.

"You want to do the honors?" I asked, gesturing to the lever.

"Of course Mistress!" she said, a delighted look on her face.

Her hands still handcuffed behind her back, she gripped the lever between her teeth and hauled her head backwards. The blade dropped for the second time, this time going all the way though the neck of Reina's corpse before the rope caught it just below the lunnette. Reina's head fell into the basket, joining Lily's, while her body slumped to the ground.

Picking up Reina's now even more colorful head, I found myself mildly intrigued by how the circumstances of Lily and her beheadings had been so different, but how in death they shared the same serene expression.

Turing to Lassie I held up the head, wiggling it back and forth I asked "Want to give your departed master one final kiss?"

Smiling at me she closed her eyes and leaned forward at the hips, puckering her lips. I moved the head in my hands to meet her lips, where she slipped her tongue in the head's mouth in a passionate kiss. After a few seconds I Pulled the head away dropping it in the basket.

Turing to Lassie I said "How about one for me too?", before closing the gap and pressing my lips to hers. As we swapped spit I noticed a few unique tastes, namely there was Reina's blood, as well as my own piss and cum. After several seconds we were interrupted by a short cough behind me. Splitting from my pet I turned to see one of the men.

"Thank you for your generous offer, need us for anything else?" the man asked.

"I think I can take it from here, thanks again for apprehending my students and helping set everything up." I replied.

"It was no problem, just doing our job." The man said, nodding once before walking off with his partner.

Looking to my class I saw that most of those that had been masturbating had been again, if more casually, needing more time to build up to anything earth-shattering. Several of the scared ones seemed even more so now, seeing what was in store for them should they try to escape, their last hopes of an out disappearing.

Addressing my assembled class I said "Well, that's two more down, probably going to be Elly next, hollar if you see something that looks especially inhumane."


This probably should have been two chapters, had the idea for the second half as I was finishing the first and it ended up almost twice as long anything else I've written. Don't know if the next thing I write will be a new chapter in one of the two works I've already started or if it will be something new. My list of story ideas is growing much faster than my list of acutally written ones. Never know when inspiration will grow strong enough to power though laziness.



I love the new chapter and the little backstory. It's always more fun to kill someone with a personality as opposed to an anonymous character.

Can't wait for more works from you, but I fully understand the struggle with laziness. ;)


Yay, I love this story! I totally get the difficulty to get motivated, but keep up the good work! :)


This story is fantastic!




this story is great,a nd it has gone WAY too long without a bump!! Can't wait to see what happens to little Lassie, haha!




bump, there's still quite a few students left!




salvation bump because people are fuckers


Bump to save from faggot spammer


Chapter 3, The Blood Eagle (Non-Cons)

After refitting Elly's ball gag and pulling her to her feet I began to look over my class as they gathered themselves to move on, pulling hands from beneath skirts and straightening their clothes. Some of them met my gaze with expressions of excitement or unease, others averted their eyes, faces flushed with embarrassment or gripped with fear. None offered up any suggestions on what to do with Elly, so with the class in tow I began to move along in search.

As we walked I felt the cool rush of air as it brushed my now exposed damp thighs, I felt a little self-conscious about my current getup. This morning I had decided to go with one of my favorite "Slutty Schoolteacher" looks. I started with a matching set of lacy black bra, stockings, and garter belt, opting to forgo the matching panties. I then picked a matching black blazer and short skirt. The skirt was short enough that the tops of the stockings where they gave way to skin were left bare, the edges of the straps of the garter belt holding them up also left exposed. I wore no shirt under the blazer so the deep valley of my creamy cleavage and the edges of my bra were on display to any who looked. I had finished it off with a pair of tall black pumps and a pair of glasses, no lenses just the frames, there only to contribute to the teacher look. But now having lost my skirt my outfit felt sort of silly, near bottomless below, but still professional up top, like the woman's fashion version of a mullet. Shaking my head I put my musings behind me, time to focus on the task at hand.

I wanted to find something brutal for Elly, but the exhibits in the Hall of Executions were largely more about death than they were about suffering. Somewhere like the Hall of Torture would probably be better if pain were a priority, but we had barely had a taste of this hall and I was determined for a least a few more of my students to meet their end here before we moved on. Hoping to find inspiration I led the class to a poster on the wall mapping out everything the Hall of Executions had to offer.

The map had a handy legend, with symbols giving additional information about the exhibits. There was one that was an image of a screaming face that the legend referred to as "Expected level of Pain, Scale 1-10". The guillotine we were just at had an expected level of pain of "1-3", presumably varying based on which blade was used. Many of the exhibits here had low expected levels of pain, being humane having been an important factor in capital punishment for much of human history, but their were still a few with much higher numbers next to them. One caught my eye that I had never heard of, the "Blood Eagle" exhibit with an expected level of pain of 9. Their were no details about the exhibits on this map, but this being a school field trip I began to lead the class in that direction, after all, what are field trips for if not to learn new things?

Pushing Elly ahead of myself as we walked, one hand on her shoulder, I said "I hope you now realize the severity your actions, how would it be fair to your classmates for only you and your friends to abandon the duty you've all been given? I hope your death will help teach them all a valuable lesson in responsibility."

Looking back over her shoulder at me she gave me an perplexed, baleful expression, possibly not sure if I was trying to maintain the air of teacher sincerely, or if I was simply playing the dynamic for my own sadistic pleasure.

The exhibit appeared very simple, consisting of a shabby looking table with a few leather straps on it, a tray with a few tools on it, and a sign detailing the exhibit. Curious, I read aloud to the class.

 The Blood eagle is a method of execution detailed in ancient Norse poetry, it is unknown whether the method was historically practiced or if it was merely a literary invention.

 The victim of the blood eagle is placed in a prone position, a sharp tool is then used to separate the ribs from the backbone, and finally the lungs are pulled from the wound and splayed on the back to form a pair of "wings".

 For our exhibit we have a replica of an Old Norse short sword, of the kind that may have been used to carry out an actual Blood Eagle. We also have a variety of more modern tools, that may be more suited for a novice executioner. A stimulant is also available to be optionally administered to the victim, it will reduce bleeding as well as help keep the victim conscious, this can also be helpful for a novice executioner that may take longer to carry out the process than a practiced Norse Warrior would.

Looking at Elly I saw the color drained from her face and her eyes wide in horror. Smiling at her I said "Well, let's get you strapped in."

Pushing her over to the table I began to realize a problem, I had never gotten the handcuff key back from the staff after I had handed it back to them to have fun with Elly.

"I can't get you into these straps with your hands cuffed like that, and I seem to have misplaced the key." I mused aloud.

An expression of faint hope appeared on her face, perhaps she thought if I couldn't free her arms I would kill her at a different exhibit where it wouldn't matter.

"Guess there's nothing else for it." I said, roughly placing her bound hands on the table, maneuvering the thumb of one of her hands so that it was bent backwards as far as it could comfortably go, then leveraged all of my weight on the base of it. The digit resisted for a half second before I could feel it snap in the palm my hand.

A strangled scream escaped her ball-gagged mouth, and another followed as I roughly pulled her ruined hand through the metal loop. I then maneuvered her now free non-broken hand through one of the leather straps on the table and fastened it down. I went around the table to do the same to her broken hand, but my solution to freeing her from her earlier cuffs meant her hand could now just as easily slip from these new ones.

Roughly pushing Elly over and mashing her bare chest into the splintery wood, I fastened her legs with the leather straps on the legs of the table and began to look about, hoping to find a solution to my new cuff problem. Around the straps on the legs and the sides of the table I saw a smattering of small holes, looking at the available tools I found a hammer and some large old looking nails. As I tried to line up her broken hand with the pre-existing nail holes, Elly began to struggle, squealing and grunting through her gag. I need both of my hands to hold the nail and the hammer and couldn't keep her arm where I needed it.

"Lassie, could you come here and help me hold her down?" I asked, turning back to my gathered class.

Lassie cheerfully bounded over. Her arms still cuffed behind her back she wasn't in a position to hold her down like as one would normally, so instead while I held Elly in position Lassie hopped up on the table, pinning Elly's arm with her bare ass, arching her back so her cuffed arms could hold Elly's forearm still behind her. Satisfied, I lined up the nail just below the wrist of Elly's broken hand, and brought the hammer down.

Elly let out muffled scream and struggled with a renewed vigor. The nail hadn't bit into the wood of the table, but it was now solidly stuck in the bone of her wrist. No longer needing a hand to hold the nail, I now held her wrist in place as I pounded the nail in with four more strikes, Elly screaming all the while.

Lassie hopped down and I stepped back to admire our work. Elly was bent over and bound face down to the table, her too-short red plaid skirt failing to hide anything, dried cum still visible on her ass and thigh. Her nailed arm was slowly bleeding, and she had a shiny damp spot on her bicep where Lassie had been sitting, presumably from Lassie enjoying the experience. There were tears flowing from her eyes as she sobbed quietly.

Wanting to be able to move more freely while I worked, I took off my blazer and set it aside, before tying up my long brown hair into a high ponytail behind me.

Grabbing the syringe from the tray I stabbed it into Elly's neck, Elly screaming as the drug entered her bloodstream. Setting aside the spent syringe I decided to start small, to get a clearer idea of what I was working with. With that in mind I grabbed a scalpel from the tray and got to work.

I cut a rectangle through the skin and muscle starting at the base of her neck and ending at the small of her back, ignoring her screams all the while. On completing the rectangle I started slicing it away from the bone, slowly peeling the flesh back as I moved the scalpel between her ribs and the chunk of flesh, reveling in her screams and the fresh blood that liberally splattered on my exposed skin. Setting aside the now free chunk of skin of muscle I grabbed a towel from the tray, mopping away most of the blood from my workspace. It was obviously amateurish work, but in the end there was a five inch wide rectangle carved in Elly's back, the junction between each of her ribs and her spine plainly visible. Her voice had gone hoarse about halfway through, and she was now laying there still, tears slowly flowing from eyes that were staring off at nothing.

My work area now clear, I grabbed the short sword from the table. I lined it up with the lowest pair of ribs, not wanting to ruin her heart or lungs so soon should I slip, and pressed my weight into the pommel. The bone did not give easily, but when it did the sword slid in a few more inches then I intended, sinking into some organ in her abdomen and eliciting a ragged hoarse scream from Elly. Pulling the sword out until it was just the rib in depth, I tried to pull the sword up through the rib above. Again the bone didn't give easily, and when it did the sword came swinging freely from her back nearly hitting me in the face. Moving to the other side to the twin of the first rib I separated, this time I started from a few inches out from her spine, aiming to start with some momentum. The sword went though the rib more easily this time, but again I couldn't control it before it sunk a few inches deeper than I intended.

Abandoning the sword I instead picked up a chisel and the hammer I had used earlier. Lining up the chisel with the lowest unbroken rib, I swung the hammer down on it. The first rib took four swings of the hammer to get though, the second took two but accidentally went too deep, the third took three and was clean. By the fifth rib I had got a rhythm down, one strike to get the chisel through most of the way, and a gentler second one to finish it off. Elly's hoarse screams petered off as I went, probably a mix of my strikes becoming more precise and clean, and her losing the strength to muster up a greater response. With a clean strike I finished off her last rib and stepped back to admire my work.

Elly was breathing raggedly, but was still breathing, her lungs and diaphragm still able to do their job. Her back was bleeding slowly, bleeding slightly more quickly near the bottom where I had gone too deep, but the drug was doing its job of keeping her from dying of blood loss before her time. Moving back up to her torso I readied myself for the final step.

Holding her spine with one hand I grabbed her ribs with the other, pulling them apart just enough to leave a gap where I could get my hand inside. I repeated this on the other side. Reaching in I felt her lung as it expanded and contracted, shallow breathes still providing life giving oxygen to her body. Squeezing, I dragged her lung out of wound I had carved, the organ not needing much force to free it from her chest cavity. I quickly repeated this with the other one, the two lungs spread on her upper back like a pair of short bloody wings.

She gasped for air that would not come, her body convulsing and shuddering as her diaphragm tried to expand lungs that were no longer there. This continued for around two minutes, her eyes frantically searching about for who knows what, tendons in her neck taught as she failed to scream, before her body shuddered for a final time and went still.

I took a few moments to admire my work. Her unseeing eyes staring off into space, her wedged open mouth with blood dripping from its corner, blood in a small pool on the table around it where she had coughed it out. The two lungs sitting atop her back, the large exposed expanse of broken ribs and bloody muscle. The blood dripping down her sides and down her large bare breasts, mashed into the splintery wood and sitting in another larger pool of blood. Her exposed pussy under her short skirt, line of wet urine slowly running down her leg soaking into her mismatched socks and forming a puddle on the floor.

I realized I was breathing heavily, I had gotten into a real rhythm and gotten completely caught up in the execution of my student. Looking out at my students told a bit of different story than the last time. Pale faces stared back at me, some of those who had been starting to come around on the whole thing seemed to have had their fear reinvigorated. At least one girl had vomited. Several were shivering in fear. For several of them this could very possibly be the most violent act they've ever witnessed in person. A few of the girls had still been masturbating, one pale face still shuddering with a mixture of climax and fear.

I went to the table and tried to wipe down all the blood on me, I got most of it off my hands, and did my best to get the bulk of it off of my skin and cleavage, but the stockings and bra I still wore still had generous amounts of blood splattered on them, a deep contrast existing between the black of my clothes, my pale skin, and Elly's deep red blood. Ignoring it I turned to Lassie.

"That's Elly done with, you're next. Since you've been helpful and your behavior has displayed the desire to atone for your actions I'll hear you out on how want me to kill you, mind that this is still a punishment, so if I feel you're just trying to let yourself off easy I will pick something else for you."

Lassie looked up at me with her big brown puppy dog eyes, smiling nervously.


More please!


Think you could incorporate some vag shooting or stabbing into this?


Hanging next, please!! :D


yes please hanging next


I can't wait for the next part!


=Chapter 4, Putting Down Lassie (Cons, Shooting)=

Lassie stood there, her face flushed and her bruised breasts swaying as she wavered, her eyes flitting to and away from meeting mine, as she gathered her courage to speak. After a moment she stilled, having presumably found her words, and she looked up at me.

"I've been a bad dog, trying to run away and betraying my master. I think you should put me down like the bitch that I am, I think you should 'Old Yeller' me, take me out back and put a bullet in brain. I guess I could see you thinking I just want to get done in quick and painlessly, but I really think this is all that I deserve." she said, gaze unwavering from mine, her voice nervous, but emphatic.

In my mind's eye I saw Lassie looking up at me with a smile on her face as I pressed a pistol to her forehead and I felt a spike of arousal well in my abdomen. I liked her idea very much indeed, treating her as the "bitch she is" right up until the very end.

"I think I can work with that." I told Lassie, smiling at her and affectionately ruffling her hair.

With a few words to rouse my class I began to lead my merry band in the direction I believed the firing range to be. I opted to leave my blazer where it lay, proudly marching forward in just my blood-soaked lingerie.

Walking along I spotted a sign on the wall proclaiming "Prohibitively loud exhibits can be found outside.". Near was a glass door that led to an outdoor pavilion. A map next to the door confirmed that the firing range was one such exhibit. After holding the door open and ushering my class through, I resumed my quest for the firing range. The outside portion of the Hall of Executions was laid out much the same as the inside part, exhibits lining each side of a long path. Following this we quickly found the firing range, a long open stretch of dirt with a large mound at the far end of it. There were a few benches where one could shoot from a seated position. There was a door leading back into a room inside with a sign over it labeling it "Armory". The was a sign posted near the door and as soon as I had my class settled I began to read aloud from it.

Executions via firearms were one of the most common methods of executions for hundreds of years after their proliferation. Executions in this style were common for use on civilian condemned, but were even more prolific for military executions. Most executions by firearms were of two varieties. The first are executions carried out by a single individual. Executions in this manner were often carried out by a single shot to the back of the head or neck, usually with a pistol, but also more uncommonly with a rifle. The second method is the use of a firing squad. The individual or individuals to be executed are restrained, usually in a kneeling or standing position, and are usually blindfolded. The shooters all fire simultaneously aiming for the heart so as to not disfigure the head. Occasionally the use of blanks or wax bullets are employed to further obfuscate responsibility for who ultimately killed the condemned. The use of firing squads predates the invention of firearms, accounts that date almost 2000 years ago existing of executions by squads of archers wielding bows or crossbows.

Our firing range is well stocked with many options available for its application. The condemned can be positioned at many distances along the range, near enough that even your young child can participate while feeling confident in their accuracy, or far enough to test the skill of a veteran marksman. For weaponry we have stocked a variety of pistols and rifles ranging from functional replicas of the earliest designs, to the most modern and high tech designs available on the mass market. Bows and crossbows are also available as well as less traditionally used firearms such as shotguns. Many of our firearms also have modified variants available, with the barrel modified to facilitate use in sexual play for those who want to incorporate it into their executions.

More information on the variants, models, and history of our weapons can be found on the individual displays in the armory.

I led my class into the armory, while I searched for the tools I would use for Lassie I let the rest of the class wander the displays on their own. Once I had made my decision I gave the class a couple more minutes to wrap up before wrangling them back outside. I directed Lassie a short way into the gun range, she stepping somewhat gingerly where the occasional small stick or rock dug into her tender feet. Turning her around to face the class, I then showed her what I had picked out.

"You don't have to worry about getting off to easy, I have a little diversion for you before we get to the main event." I said, holding up the first of the two weapons I had selected.

I held a small pistol in my hand, the front half of the barrel was molded in the shape of a dick, the barrel a few inches longer than it normally would have been, making the dick part around seven inches long, complete with veins running up the sides if its silvery surface. The gun had a couple other features that wouldn't be found on a standard firearm. The safety had three positions, the first two were your normal on and off, the third was off but with the addition of making the barrel vibrate. A couple inches in front of the rear sight, right at the base of the dick part of the barrel was a small protrusion, about an inch and a half tall and bumpy, meant to run up right against the clitoris when the gun is fully inserted into a vagina.

"We're going to have a little fun with this first, and then after I'll finish you off this other one." I said holding the second gun up.

The second gun was just a regular replica of an old antique rifle, muzzle loading and single shot. I had already loaded it a second time after doing a test fire on the range to make sure I knew how to use it. It had been a long time since I had seen Old Yeller, but it seemed accurate enough to me.

Lassie had looked at the first gun with interest, but her eyes seemed locked to the second one. Her cheeks flushed and I saw a shiver run up her spine. After a few second she tore her gaze away and looked up at me.

"Thank you Mistress, this is more than I deserve." she said.

"Nonsense. It's exactly what you deserve." I replied. "Now let's get started."

I put my hand on Lassie's shoulder and applied pressure, she quickly understood what I wanted her to do and knelt down in the dirt. I saw her briefly wince as the occasional pebble bit into her shins. She looked up at me with an expression that was both nervous and eager, I could almost imagine a short brown tail wagging frantically behind her.

"We're gonna want to get this lubed up first." I said, waving around the phallic pistol.

Understanding my intent, Lassie opened her mouth wide, tongue hanging out. Truth be told, this was hardly necessary, Lassie had been positively dripping for the past several minutes, but I wanted to play up my role a little more, and Lassie seemed more than happy to comply.

I began by rubbing the front of the barrel on her exposed tongue, slowly sliding it back and forth a few times, the tip just barely exploring the edge of her lips before backing off again. Lassie's eyes were firmly locked with mine the whole time. After a couple seconds Lassie started to work the tip with her tongue, spreading saliva around the top before moving on and tasting the underside of the shaft. She did this for several seconds, eye contact still holding, doing her best to put on an erotic performance.

Slowly I began to slide the barrel into her mouth, she winced as the tip grazed the entrance to her throat, but like most girls her age she had been thoroughly trained to ignore her gag reflex. I slid the barrel in an out, the tip going from being just barely inside her lips, to bumping the back of her throat. Lassie shifted, leaning forward and tilting her head further up, behavior ingrained in her to make her throat easier to violate. I was still going slow but I gradually began to go deeper, penetrating just barely into her throat at first, but eventually going all the way in, the trigger guard bumping into her chin, the protrusion on top bumping into her nose.

The unyielding metal of the gun was probably more difficult to swallow than her usual fare, but Lassie took it like a champ, lightly watering eyes never breaking contact, except for the briefest of winces. I pushed the gun all the way into her throat and held there for a couple seconds before making a show of moving my finger to the trigger, slowly stroking it as I met Lassie's watering eyes.

"I don't think it's wet enough yet, so I'm going to start going a little faster, it would be a real shame if this went off too early, so try not to choke, I could accidentally set it off if the gun stops moving but my hand doesn't." I told Lassie cheerily, simultaneously flipping the safety to "off".

I pulled the gun back out, and as soon as her windpipe was clear she was desperately sucking in air through her nose, but I quickly put a stop to that, shoving the gun back down her throat. I did this again and again, slowly accelerating, commentating all the while things like "Oops, that was close, I almost pulled the trigger." and "I've got a lot of students to get through, maybe I should just pull it now and move on the the next one.". Lassie was a real trooper, even as she struggled to take in oxygen during the brief windows she had, even as I bruised her throat with my violent pumping, even as tears streamed down her face, she never tried to pull back and she never broke eye contact.

After a minute or two of this her eyes were beginning to list, it seemed her brief breathes weren't staving off the oxygen deprivation, and I pulled the gun completely free from her mouth. She sputtered, coughing a few times before sucking in huge breathes, her bruised breasts shaking fiercely as she struggled to regain oxygen. After a couple seconds she had regained enough composure to look back up at me, her brown eyes still full of trust and lust, even after I had violently violated her throat with a pistol.

"Is it lubed to your satisfaction, Mistress?" Lassie croaked out between ragged breaths.

I made a show of looking over the barrel, running my finger along it to feel the slick metal. "Yes, you did well." I told Lassie. "Now lean back so I can shove this gun up your cunt."

Her posture had slipped during the lubing, where she had been sitting kneeling on her shins she now sat ass on the ground, both legs folded to her sides. She leaned back, swung her legs forward while putting her weight on her palms behind her, her wrists still bound, lifting her ass from the ground. She was now in a kind of crab walk position, her legs splayed to show of her dripping pussy, dirt clinging to the drenched lips.

I knelt down between her legs, clearing the worst of the rocks from the dirt first so it wouldn't bite through my stockings and into my shins too bad. I reached my hand between her legs and brushed most of the dirt from her pussy, some of the sticky dirt sticking to my hand and getting brushed off on my stockings. Leaning forward I gave it a lick, running the flat of my tongue once straight through the center and sliding around her clit. There was a bit of dirt mixed in with her taste, but not enough to damper the experience. She moaned and reflexively squeezed her thighs around my head. I pulled back, my intent here wasn't to eat her out.

"I just wanted to give you a quick thank you for your good job earlier, but we'd better get on with the main show, don't want your lube job drying out and going to waste." I told Lassie, bringing up to pistol to tease her entrance.

"Thank you Mistress." Lassie said, a lustful twinge in her voice.

I applied pressure and between Lassie's lube job and her natural arousal it slid in with almost no resistance. I slid it in around three quarters of the way before pulling it most of the way out, slowly starting the carnal rhythm that Lassie would be feeling for the last time. I pumped the gun in and out of her pussy, gradually increasing in speed, gradually going deeper. Lassie's attention flitted between the gun and me, her breathing becoming heavier, the beginnings of moans escaping her throat. As I went deeper the clit stimulation protrusion starting bumping into her and doing it's job, a louder surprised moan escaping her lips. Holding the pistol there for a second I flipped the safety to "vibrate". Vibrating directly on her clit Lassie has a small orgasm, fluid gushing onto my hand. I started pumping the vibrating gun in and out of her faster and faster, her moans building louder. On one penetration I went deeper than before, and the tip of the barrel bumped roughly into her cervix. Lassie threw her head back, a strangled moan of pain and pleasure escaping, the loudest yet. I continued in this manner, pulling the gun almost all the way out, then jamming it as deep as it could go, stimulator pressing deep into her clit, vibrating barrel knocking on the door to her womb. Lassie howled, lust, pain, and anticipation mixing, driving her to her nearing climax.

By my estimation, she was seconds away from coming. Matching my timing to her orgasm I jammed the gun in, with more force than I had used before. As she began her screaming climax I pulled the trigger, I pulled it again and again, Lassie screaming and moaning in harmony with the muffled claps of the pistol, only stopping when I realized the last several pulls had clicked empty.

I pulled the gun free from Lassie's pussy, it didn't come super easily, the smell making me think the smoking gun barrel might have burnt her and seared to some of her most sensitive flesh. Standing up I ran my tongue along the length of the barrel, it was still quite hot but not enough to dissuade me from enjoying the mixed taste of girl cum, blood, and gunpowder.

Looking down I saw that Lassie was still breathing, she looked visibly paler and there was a growing pool of blood between her legs, but by my estimate she still had a few minutes before she bled out. It also seemed that I either had perforated her bladder, or she had gone incontinent as urine joined the growing puddle.

Squatting by her head I asked "You still there Lassie? Can you sit up?".

Lassie opened her eyes and focused on mine for a couple seconds before she tried sitting up. Groaning in pain she collapsed back into the dirt. Getting behind her I put my hands under her armpits and heaved her back up to a sitting position, she gave a pitiful squeal of pain followed by a wet cough, blood dribbling from her mouth and onto her chest. She did her best to prop herself up, leaning on her still cuffed hands behind her, her legs splayed in the growing pool of her own mixed fluids.

Unable to resist her pale bloodied lips I bent down to give her a brief kiss. It was fairly chaste, I only snuck my tongue between her lips to tangle with hers once. Pulling back I wiped the blood from my lips with the back of my hand, returning the smile of my dying student with one of my own.

I picked up the antique rifle and pressed it against her forehead. "Any last words, bitch?" I asked her.

She looked up at me, a brilliant smile on her ashen face, beautiful brown eyes meeting mine for the last time. "Thank you Mistress, Thank you Ms. Brooks." she said, a trickle of blood leaking from the corner of her mouth.

I pulled the trigger. A deafening bang echoed through the range and Lassie collapsed back to the ground. Her eyes stared straight into the sky, a smaller pool of blood and brains beginning to form beneath her head as the one beneath her hips continued to grow.

I placed the rifle on the ground next to the pistol before turning to survey my class. They seemed much warmer on this execution than the last, more openly masturbating or clearly having just finished doing so. A tone of fear was still present but there was a growing tone of resignedness and excitement as well.

"You've all been very patient, just watching me kill your peers one by one, waiting around for your turn." I addressed the class. "But I want you to have some fun too, so you're going to do a firing squad. One of you lucky girls will be bound to a post and the rest of you will get to work together to execute her, do I have a volunteer?"



Bump,this is great!


oh nice

please let there be a volunteer, and not one who thinks she'll just die more painlessly this way

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