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 No.6796

It's long overdue, but my newest story is finally finished. Real life has gotten in the way lately, I've moved to a new place and not had much time left to write. I'm still writing, so more stories are on the way but I won't make any promises about when they'll be finished. But at least you can enjoy this one!

(I didn't put tags in the subject line because I think it will spoil the story, but I think the average GuroChan reader will know what they're getting into.)








The last day of my life had come. At the age of thirteen I was standing on a stage in the middle of town with the guillotine in front of me and my hands tied behind my back. The new government was tyrannical and purely evil, and my father had been one of its most outspoken critics for quite a while. That was until a month before that day, when armed police stormed our house in the middle of the night and took the whole family away. We were separated and I hadn’t seen any of them since. I assumed they were all dead, as I would soon be. After a short ‘trial’ I’d been sentenced to death, but they didn’t know I still had one trick up my sleeve.

Apart from me there were two people on the stage, the judge who had sentenced me and the executioner who would carry out the sentence. The judge spoke for what seemed like an eternity, rambling on about opposing the state and ruining the country. The people in the crowd that had gathered around the stage seemed pretty bored, after all they had come to watch an execution, not a speech. The executioner stood beside me, watching my every move as if he thought I was going to escape. He was tall and muscular, and I was terrified of him. Whatever I did, I didn’t want to be in harms way of that man. The judge was less terrifying, but he was really old and had a cynical, evil look in his eyes that could send chills down anyone’s spine. Just as the people in the audience looked like they might fall asleep any second the judge finished his speech and turned around to look at me.

“So, young woman, do you have any last words?” He said.

“Yes, I do. According to the execution code, paragraph twenty-one, a young girl should not be executed if she is unmarried and still a virgin. I ask you to respect this code, and pardon me.”

The crowd laughed, thinking I had made it all up and was trying to escape my certain death. I kept my face stern, hoping that the judge would at least look it up before dismissing my wish. The laughter died down, and after a few seconds of silence the judge spoke:

“Executioner, please find me a copy of this code she speaks of.”

It became apparent that my statement had caught him somewhat by surprise, but in his defence the law had not been used for many years. Executions of women were rare, especially as young as me. After a minute or so the executioner came back with a copy of the code, which was covered in dust and had probably been unused for years. The current government did not often care about breaking old laws, but in this case it looked like they at least wanted to know what laws they were breaking. The judge read the paragraph I’d been quoting and thought about it for a second or two before he spoke again.

“It appears that the young lady is correct about the law,” he said, and a gasp went through the audience. “However, one point of uncertainty remains, and that is if the girl is indeed a virgin. Executioner, please undress her.”

“What?” I exclaimed, shocked by what I’d just heard. “I’m thirteen, of course I’m a virgin!”

“You never know with kids these days,” the judge replied. “I’ll let you keep your shirt on for good measure, but unless you want to be executed right away I advise you to let the executioner inspect you.”

“Fine. Go ahead then,” I said as angrily as I could, trying to hide the feeling of embarrassment that flowed through me as I though about what was going to happen.

The executioner approached me and went straight to it. He put his hands at my hips and slid my trousers and panties down to my feet. Although I wasn’t an adult yet I was not a child either. My hips had gotten wider and I had a neat patch of soft hair above my private area, all of which was now on display for the whole audience. The crowd obviously liked the sight and whistled and catcalled at me, which made me blush heavily. The fact that there was no way I could hide myself made the embarrassment even worse. Suddenly I felt the executioner’s hand resting on my thigh. He was crouching in front of me, his head about the same level as my hips.

“Spread your legs,” he said. Reluctantly I adjusted my position so that my feet were a foot apart.

“More,” he said again.

I hesitated, and he looked up at me. I was very ashamed of what I was about to do, but if I wanted to survive I had to. I slowly put my feet further apart, allowing him full access to my most private area. He caressed me with his hand, stroking my inner thigh while slowly working his way upwards. He arrived at his destination and moved a finger up and down its length a couple of times. As he hit my most sensitive spot I couldn’t help but utter a quiet gasp. He smiled; it was obvious that he enjoyed it. Placing one finger on each of my nether lips he spread my flower out and seemed to inspect it for a moment. He caressed the entrance and then tried to put his finger inside, but he didn’t get far. I had never stuck anything up there, not even a finger, so my hymen stopped his entry. He tried again, a bit harder, but didn’t get any further. He withdrew his finger and slowly licked it clean while looking menacingly into my eyes. He then stood up and announced to the audience that I was a virgin.

The crowd suddenly went dead silent. The judge had a surprised look on his face, and didn’t seem to quite know what to do. He called the executioner to him and they began discussing quietly. For the first time since I had been arrested a careful smile appeared on my lips, and the small hope I’d had of escaping grew larger. I felt relief, even though I was still standing half naked in front of hundreds of people. They talked for quite a while, and while the people in the crowd discussed the unexpected turn of events among themselves I was growing increasingly impatient and annoyed. What was there to discuss? The law was clear; I should now be free to go!

After a long time, the judge finally walked to the front of the stage and addressed the crowd:

“Although the law the convict has made us aware of is old, it is still valid and we have chosen to respect it,” he said. I felt immense relief wash over me as I heard him say those words. I was right!

“However,” he continued, making my heart skip a beat and the fear return, “the verdict is still standing and the scheduled execution will go as planned.”

“What?” I couldn’t help but scream out loud. “I’m innocent! The law says you have to let me go!”

“I repeat, the execution will go as planned and the verdict is final,” he said. “Executioner, please handle her.”

I screamed all the profanities I could remember at the judge, but he nonchalantly walked away. Out of nowhere I was suddenly slapped hard on the cheek and the executioner grabbed me firmly.

“Be quiet, or else I’ll make this worse for you,” he said in a quiet but terrifying voice.

“But I don’t understand,” I cried, “you can’t kill me if I’m a virgin!”

“You’re absolutely right, we can’t.”

“But, but … how?” I stuttered, unable to grasp what they were going to put me through in the last moments of my life.

“You’ll see soon enough,” he said, smiling.

It all went very fast from there. The executioner ripped the remaining clothes from my body, exposing my small, undeveloped breasts. He fondled them, rubbing the sensitive nipples and pinching them hard enough to make me yelp out in pain. He grabbed me and made me kneel with my head through the guillotine, securing my hands and feet and finally, my neck. He adjusted my position so that my back was curved inwards and my bottom was sticking out into the air. I was ashamed of being so exposed to this monster of a person. I was defeated, and all the hope that had been building up inside me came crashing down. The crowd seemed more ecstatic than ever, clearly enjoying the sight, and many were openly masturbating by this point.

The worst part was yet to happen, and I was bracing myself for it. My soon-to-be rapist lubricated me with his spit, fondling me roughly. It wasn’t pleasant, but I knew what was coming next was a lot worse. He stopped for a second, and then I felt him slowly inserting his member into me. He didn’t get far in before my hymen stopped him, but this time he wasn’t going to let that get in his way. Slowly he increased the pressure on the thin membrane, leaning more and more of his weight onto me. I moaned from the pain, but it seemed to only motivate him more and the pressure on my hymen increased. Suddenly I felt something tear inside of me, and no longer hindered my anything he pushed himself as far into me as possible, finally coming to a halt when he hit my cervix. The feeling was horrible; my whole crotch felt like it was on fire and my abdomen was ravaged by intense cramps. I screamed my lungs out and struggled as much as I could against him, but he was far too strong for me, and my screams drowned in the noise of the ecstatic crowd.

Slowly he began thrusting in and out while steadily increasing the pace, and he made sure to hit my cervix every time. Each thrust felt like I was getting stabbed and my small, frail body was not built to handle the treatment I was given. I felt some kind of liquid trickle down my inner thighs, and although I couldn’t see what it was I knew it was my own blood. I had always hated the sight and feel of my own blood, but this was so much worse than the small cuts and bruises I’d gotten as a child. I felt nauseous, dizzy, and very, very afraid. At that point it became too much for me and without realizing it before it was too late I lost control of my bladder. The last, tiny bit of self-confidence I had left was crushed.

“Look at you pathetic little thing, you like this, don’t you?” the executioner laughed at me.

I barely registered what he said, but there was no insult left that could impact me then. I had completely given up, my body went limp and I closed my eyes. The tears still streamed down my face, I couldn’t control them. I didn’t scream or struggle. I just laid there waiting for it all to be over, trying not to think about anything. The executioner’s thrusts were getting even faster, but the pain seemed to fade. Whether that was because I was getting used to it or it was due to my mind becoming increasingly blank I didn’t know. The only thing I knew was that it was getting faster, faster and then even faster, until he suddenly stopped and pushed even deeper into me than before. Something spurted inside of me, and it felt very strange. I barely realised what it was before I heard a scraping sound coming from above me getting closer and closer, until I heard a loud thump and an intense pain spread out from my neck.

My whole body felt strangely numb, and all the sounds from the crowd that moments earlier had been overwhelming suddenly faded away into the distance. An intense array of colours flashed before my eyes, but I couldn’t recognise any shapes or images from it. I felt like I was flying, spinning into an endless void filled with nothing. The colours faded, and I felt like I had no emotions, feelings or desires. Slowly all my senses were replaced by a welcomed feeling of calm and peace, and I knew that I could no longer be hurt by anything or anyone.

 No.6808

nice, nice.the kid seems cute, you do that well....just a personal thing, the lack of rape was one thing that set Hanging of a Sinner apart for me, it was more judicial, professional, focused on the little girl, not sexual violence, I liked the other one more, but I still like the victim, the most important part :)

 No.6822

s

 No.6838

>>6808
Thank you for the feedback. I try to mix things up a bit, and I feel like this story would've been too similar to the last one if I hadn't included sex or something else apart from the death itself. Beheading stories are more difficult to write since death is so sudden, and without sex there really isn't much going on. It's of course absolutely fine if you don't think it's as good as the last one, that's just how it goes. I'm glad you still found it enjoyable though.

 No.6839

oh, I definitely agree there needed to be something more, and likely plenty of people were just fine with it. Me personally, I just don't care for reading rape. Consensual (maybe in trade for a quick beheading instead of hanging), or even lonely masturbation in the cell beforehand, first and last orgasm, I would love either one, but again, just my personal taste, and it's still good :)

 No.6843

Absolutely love this. Great work. I love her indignation and the fact that she thinks she will get away. The utter defeat! The humiliation! Fine fine fine work!

 No.6844

Absolutely love this. Great work. I love her indignation and the fact that she thinks she will get away. The utter defeat! The humiliation! Fine fine fine work!

 No.6846

A good story. The setting's a bit cliché, but with the personal perspective it works quite well.

The executioner could have been nicer about it. It wouldn't change the outcome at all, but it would maybe have added more depth if that guy was actually a decent person just doing his job, while knowing shes actually innocent. Of course rape also has its merits, but on gurochan theres no lack of that

 No.8090

I love it! Very well written<3

 No.8091

Is it possible you could do one where the innocent young girl gets executed via cunt shot? Either while still virgin and desperately wanting not to be, or after her belly swells from being forcefully impregnated by the soldiers 8-9 months ago?

 No.9596

bump
so many good stories about to be lost

 No.10656

Bump for more! Your style is very cute! <3

 No.13687

bump



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