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The excited burble of the audience was audible even in the small backstage lounge. Mary Miller adjusted her skimpy black lace lingerie for the hundredth time that hour and looked at the mirror. The damned thing barely contained her sizable chest. She frowned. Of course, it was the same set she had bought 15 years ago when she first got married. Age and 3 children had added a few pounds to her curvaceous body. Mary flicked a stray bang of pink hair away from her glasses and struck a pose.

A sharp knocking on the door broke Mary out of her reverie. "Mrs. Miller? Its time for the show to start." It was a young woman's voice, perky and cheerful. The housewife breathed in, gathered her few remaining shreds of courage, stood up, and walked to the door. It opened, and her killer offered a hand. The girl (and she was a girl, being only 19 years old) was foot shorter than Mary, with an innocent freckled face, short cropped raven hair and round, inviting features. Mary shook her hand, feeling a bit disconcerted. The girl looked like she was barely out of highschool, yet she was one of the premier snuff show hosts in the country. It would be her hands that would be at the controls of the guillotine. The same soft, warm hands that reassuringly caressed Mary's hands.

"Is it okay if I call you Mary?", the girl asked softly. "Y-yes, sure", Mary answered, her voice tight with anxiety. The girl smiled and pulled her in closer. "It is absolutely okay to feel nervous about the show, but just try and keep it under control. The pay out will depend on your performance after all." She looked up at Mary. "So, if you want to cry, if you want to just let it all out, do it now. It will make it easier for us later." The housewife shook her head. "I'm fine", she lied. The girl nodded, then turned her back. "It's time to go", she said simply.

The pair walked out past the curtains and onto the stage. There were about a hundred extremely wealthy philanthropists in attendance, and most were eagerly looking forward to the show. Mary shivered, her skin crawling. All those eyes were admiring her voluptuous body like if it was a prime cut of beef at a butcher shop. They didn't care about the desperate circumstances that had forced Mary to sacrifice her life, they just wanted a half hours worth of sick thrills coated with a veneer of social justice.

The spotlights swirled around in a dance of light, before converging on a single spot on the center of the stage. A guillotine stood tall and proud. It was polished clean, every surface slick and glossy. The girl lead Mary over and the pair stood beside it. They both bowed towards the audience. A microphone (Where did she get that?, wondered Mary) was in the girls hands. She cleared her throat, and the small talk and chatter subsided.
"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen. This is the 5th annual Charity Chop, where all of you wonderfully generous patrons and humanitarians give your hard earned money to a good cause, with the most generous having the honor of being Mrs. Mary Miller's last fuck!" The audience cheered and clapped, and Mary blushed. They hadn't told her there would be sex involved. The girl turned to Mary and shoved the mic in her face. "But first, lets hear what our brave snuff girl has to say!" For a moment, Mary was speechless. Then, she slowly began to speak. "T-thank you all for attending, and for giving my family a chance at a new life. I am extremely grateful, and I hope you enjoy the show."

The girl took back the mic. "Lets give it up for her folks, she's a brave woman and deserves our support!" The audience clapped and cheered. Mary smiled nervously and bowed once more. "Well, without further ado, lets get on with it." Slow, sensual music began to play from the overhead speakers, and the lighting dimmed until only three spotlights remained, one focusing on the guillotine, one focusing on the host girl, and one focusing n Mary as she began to move her wide hips languidly to the beat. Years ago, before the marriage and the children, she had been a stripclub dancer, and the moves were ingrained muscle memory. Now, she focused on those memories with grim determination, trying to devote every thought to the striptease rather than her upcoming death. With a flourish, she undid her bra and threw it to the side, letting her giant breasts wobble free. There was a whistle from the crowd, and she winked. "Alright, we've got our first bid, 100,000!" The girl shouted at the crowd. "200,000, 400,000!"

The bids came fast and furious, and soon there were millions being casually tossed into the charity. Mary raised a leg and kicked off her skimpy panties, revealing a shaved pussy. More whistles from the audience, along with a faint catcall. Finally, a tech startup founder from the Valley plopped down 5 million for the privilege of sticking his dick into the doomed housewife. No one bothered to raise. "Going once, twice, and we're done! Five million bucks, that's a new record!", the girl enthused. The winner came up on stage and shook hands with the host. Mary suddenly felt her mouth dry up. She looked over at the looming guillotine, and her eyes locked on to the mirror like surface of the blade. Very shortly, that would slice through her neck, separating it from the same shoulders that had supported it for the past 37 years. She jumped as the host girl grabbed her by the hand and firmly led her over to the bascule. It had been cut down, so that the women about to be beheaded could present their genitals and ass to the customer.

Mary laid her chest down, and felt leather straps go over her torso, securing her tightly to the shortened bascule. The lunette was locked over her neck. She heard the unzipping of pants, and felt two hands grip her waist. Then, the familiar feeling of a stiff cock pushing past her lower lips and into her womb. Mary grunted as the techbro pounded into her soft rear. She thought of her kids, and of her dead husband. His untimely death at the hand of an extremely rare disease was the reason the family had gone from middleclass to poorer than dirt. Their combined savings had been eaten up by the medical treatments, and then the funeral costs. They had to default on their house, moved into a scuzzy motel on the outskirts of the city. Then Mary had found the advertisement online. Enough money to ensure a solidly comfortable life for an entire family. The only catch was that you had to volunteer to be killed. In desperation, she had chosen death.

Tears welled up in Mary's eyes. She was afraid. The techbro increased his thrusts, viciously fucking her raw. He raised a hand and slapped her asscheeks, delighting in the way they firmly bounced, and in how his hands left red marks on her pale white flesh. The end came sooner than Mary anticipated.
The man grunted in exertion, then gasped as he deposited a fat load of cum into her fertile womb.

In perfect synchronization, the host girl triggered the guillotine blade release mechanism. From the crossbar, the blade fell, sliding noiselessly down the oiled rails. Mary only had enough time to feel hot cum burst into her before the blade struck her slender neck. A searing pain flashed across her neck, then nothing. The view from her eyes was a busy whirlwind of colors as her head bounced into the waiting basket. She stared up at the shining spotlights, wide eyed as blood squirting from her severed neck arteries drizzled across her face. The host girl reached into the basket and grabbed Mary by her glossy pink hair, raising it up towards the audience. As Mary's vision faded, she heard the clapping and cheering and the host girl saying something, but it all felt so distant.
Her eyelids drooped down, and Mary Miller died.

The techbro felt Mary's cunt clamp around his prick as the blade sliced through her neck. Her thick body slumped as the connection between the nervous system and the brain was severed. Blood sprayed in two pressurized hoses from her neck stump as her heart raced crazily for 30 seconds before slowing down to a sputter and a dribble. With a wet pop, the first time philanthropist pulled his dick out of Mary's cockholster. Semen trickled out of her sopping wet pussy as her muscles twitched.

He wiped his dick clean, gave Mary's firm ass one last appreciative slap and turned, only to see Mary's slack jawed face staring straight at him. The man let out a yelp and jumped. The host giggled as she lowered the severed head. "Got ya good, didn't I? Traditionally, we give the head of the girl to the highest paying patron. Today, that's you. We'll even treat the head so it doesn't rot".
The techbro sighed, and took Mary's head. He looked down and pried open her eyelids. Mary's pupils stared dully at him, empty of life. "Yeah, that sounds great", he said with a grin.


Haha, this was actually pretty funny parody of charity shows ;)

Maybe you could push it a bit harder :) and in the end, tell that Marry's children received 1000$ payout for her performance LOL
Of course, later all humanitarians and philanthropists have a good party as they need to spend those 5 million somehow LOL


I enjoyed this premise - found it very sweet :-)



Charity Chop: Afterword

Lilly sighed and looked at the forlorn carcass laying limp in the embrace of the bascule. The audience had departed for the aftershow party at the swanky hotel a block away, leaving her to mop up the blood and cart Mrs. Miller's corpse away. The show host snapped on a pair of surgical gloves, rolled up her sleeves and got to work.

As she wiped away the bloodstains around the guillotine, her eyes would occasionally glance at Mrs. Miller's shapely body. Lilly felt the warmth of arousal spread inside her crotch. It would be a lie to say Lilly didn't find Mary Miller attractive. The older woman was just her type. Soft curves, a big ass, perky tits, slender waist, with a bit of chub in the belly. A MILF type, to be exact.

Finally, Lilly could wait no more. The girl stopped cleaning and put her bucket and mop to the side. Furtively looking around, she climbed on top of the bascule and grasped Mary's waist, rolling the headless corpse over onto its back. Mary's sizable breasts jiggled tantalizingly, and Lilly immediately grasped both in her hands. She marvelled at how her fingers sank into the pillowy tits. Kneading away at the breasts, she leaned over and breathed in Mary's fragrance. The smell of her perfume (something lavender-y), combined with the musk of sweat and sex, and the funk of death. It was sweet, and Lilly only grew more aroused. Her own nipples hardened and poked against her bra.

Something wet touched her hands, and Lilly saw beads of milk seep out of Mary's formerly pink (now slightly greyish) nipples. The host girl salivated, lowering her head and enclosing her lips around the dead woman's left nipple. She closed her eyes and sucked, savoring the faint trace of body warmth along with the post mortem milk. Her now free right hand reached down and rubbed away at her positively flooded pussy.

Lilly came, love fluids squirting around her fingers. She gasped and sighed, laying her head down on Mary's blood encrusted chest. She rested there for a moment, feeling at peace, her breathing contrasting with the deathly stillness of Mary's body. It was a nice perk of the job, being able to play with the corpses after hours.

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